In The Absence Of Hope
by ThnksFrThMmrs87
Summary: Hope dies, but life goes on; and nobody knows that better than Emily Prentiss. Forced to live under circumstances she never imagined, she must find a way to move forward. But fate isn't always what it seems. Established Emily/Hotch
1. Prologue

Note From The Author-- This is kind of monumental for me. If you haven't noticed, I don't really do case stories, and this is most definitely going to delve into that area, which is monumental for me. I just graduated with a Bachelor's degree, which is huge, so I decided to do something huge here to celebrate. I realize that members of the team are very often put in the line of fire on the show and in fanfiction, but considering what they do I think that makes sense. I hope you'll bear with me with this story; I'm a little unsure of what's going on. I know where I want to take it but the case factor makes me nervous. We'll see how this goes : )

Disclaimer-- I don't own the characters of Criminal Minds

A couple of months before, Emily had been deliriously happy. Two years before she had finally worked up the courage to tell Hotch how she felt, and had been elated to discover that he felt the same. Since then her life had been dramatically different, in the best way possible. They had been together for close to a year when he proposed, and later when she found out she was pregnant she couldn't wait to tell him. It wouldn't ever happen; the day after she found out that she was carrying their first child, Hotch disappeared.

The Bureau wrote it off, assuming that he had gone of his own volition. There was no evidence to the contrary; no sign of a struggle anywhere in their home, no blood, no ransom note, no body or contact from kidnappers. His team knew better that there was no way he would leave Emily and Jack behind so easily, nor would he have left his friends and the job he loved. So while the higher ups walked away, the team did their own work to try and bring him home.

But eventually Emily lost hope. Maybe it had been when the baby kicked for the first time and she was all alone. Maybe it was when they showed her the picture that told her she would have a son, and it was JJ holding her hand rather than the man she loved. Hope died, it didn't really matter when; and at seven months pregnant, after Aaron had been gone for over five months, Emily asked them to stop looking. With tears in her eyes and her hands resting protectively over her belly, she verbally accepted the fact that she would never get him back; and she felt her heart shatter.


	2. Never Forgotten

Note From The Author—I won't lie, I'm majorly struggling with the case, mostly because I'm used to writing straight angst or fluff and little to no procedure. I warn you now that part may suck, and feedback is appreciated. Also, this is my 100th story on this profile, which kind of makes me go Holy Shit, which I say a lot.

"Conference room in five," JJ called out to the team as she sailed through the bullpen and past Emily, Reid and Derek.

Things had been drastically rearranged for their team in Hotch's absence. Though Derek had been put in charge, he had refused the office. It didn't feel right taking what really belonged to Hotch, and none of them had been in there in months.

Derek sighed sadly as he looked up there, then the sigh turned to exasperation as he turned to see Emily pushing out of her seat. "Em," he started.

She glared at him as she finally made it to her feet. "Derek Morgan, you can keep me out of the field and away from guns and whatever else you think may be a danger to me but you will not keep me away from knowing what's going on in our cases."

It was never wise to argue with Emily, and particularly unwise when she was hormonal and determined. Still, Morgan worried about her, especially now. "You're over eight months pregnant; you shouldn't be stressing yourself out."

"How can I possibly be stressed when none of you wonderful men will let me do anything for myself?" she asked, sarcasm dripping from every word.

"We worry," Reid chimed in from behind her.

Emily turned as quickly as she could to look at him. "I know you worry, but plenty of women get pregnant, and almost every one of them is perfectly fine."

"Not everyone is you," Spencer told her.

Tears swam in her eyes when he said it, and she leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "I know, and I know you're all trying to make things easier for me; but there isn't a whole lot that can make any of this easier." She started towards the conference room, brushing a kiss over Derek's cheek as well.

As soon as she was out of ear shot, Reid spoke up again. "I feel bad not telling her."

Morgan shook his head. "We can't, kid. She asked us to stop looking."

"Then why didn't we?"

"Because." He pointed in the direction of the empty office. "We're not going to rest until we find out what happened to him, for Emily, and for that baby."

He only nodded, and with weight pressing on them just a little bit more, the pair of them headed for the conference room and the next case.

"This is a weird one," JJ announced when they were all settled.

"Aren't they all?" Dave questioned with a wry smile.

"Weirder than usual." She pushed a button and brought the faces of what looked to be close to a dozen men to the screen. "Ten men, all different races but all mid thirties and up found dead in the past year; their bodies were all found in and around Memphis, most on the outskirts. All ten were reported missing, anywhere from six months to five years ago."

"That's quite a range," Rossi chimed in.

JJ nodded. "The police in Tennessee have obviously been looking into the case for some time, but they've found very little."

"There are a couple of connections," Derek told the group. "All of the men are middle to upper middle class, all white collar workers mostly in managerial positions and the like. They're from all over the country, but none of them have worked hard labor a day in their life."

"I'm assuming that has some sort of significance?" Emily questioned.

"Yes." JJ pulled up the next set of photos, this time a series of shots of the bodies as they had been found. "The men who were found all had a great deal of callusing on their hands, more than would be expected given their professions and hobbies. They were also found with very distinctive markings on their necks and backs."

As she flipped through the pictures they could all feel horror rising. "Those cannot be what I think they are," Garcia whispered.

"Whip marks," Reid said almost to himself, flipping rapidly through the file. "And the markings on the neck appear to be from slave collars."

"That would be the same conclusion that the locals came to," Derek said, sounding frustrated.

Dave shook his head. "I don't get it; why are they calling us in now after almost a year of this?"

"Bodies are piling up," Emily observed. "Do they have any suspects?"

JJ sighed. "Sort of."

"Sort of?" Reid asked. "How can they sort of have a suspect?"

Derek decided to field that one. "Each of the men visited a bar or a restaurant with a bar the day before they went missing. On each of those days there was a rep present for what was called an upstart brewing company looking to sell his wares; evidently knew what he was talking about."

"No way in hell that's a coincidence," Emily commented.

"No, not even close," he agreed.

Something was nagging at the back of Dave's mind, but since he couldn't put his finger on it, he just pushed on. "I'm assuming this guy had a card if he was trying to sell something."

Their media liaison nodded. "He gave a card with all the company's information. The address on it is to a P.O Box listed to a person who doesn't actually exist and the phone number rings through to the local pizza joint. The cards were clearly just for show, and he obviously had no purpose other than to find these men."

"Did they catch anything on camera?" Garcia asked.

"A little bit, but I'm not sure even your magic can fix it baby girl. This guy is good; he used a different disguise at every bar, kept his head turned from the cameras most of the time."

Reid had finished the file and was staring up at the screen, apparently in his own world. "He's more than good. He doesn't observe these men, doesn't stalk them or take his time. If this is our guy he goes in to a bar, chooses someone at random, and they're gone by the next day. That suggests an inordinately high skill level, that of a master in fact."

JJ glanced down at her watch. "We haven't got a lot of time so we'll have to pick up en route."

Derek nodded. "Wheels up in thirty.

##########################################################################################################

As soon as they were in the air and able, Derek set up their video conference with Garcia and Prentiss. "Talk to me," Garcia requested.

"We need to find out how many other missing persons could possibly be involved in this. Look for anyone in the right age range whose file mentions they were at a target location prior to their disappearance. We need to see how wide this goes."

"Can do, anything else?"

"Look into small, independent beer labels. If our unsub knows the lingo it may be that he actually does own a brewery." Reid suggested. "He's using these people as slave labor for something."

"Got it." Emily appeared on screen. "I'd say that we should look into anyone with priors or for the same M.O but I don't think we're likely to get a lot of hits on slave collars and whippings."

Rossi shook his head. "No, but you know how it goes. Leave no stone un-turned."

Garcia nodded. "Got it. That it?"

Derek grinned. "Make sure Emily follows doctor's orders, and that she doesn't forget to eat. BB's got to come out nice and strong."

Emily resisted the urge to stick out her tongue, though just barely. "Thanks, Dad."

"I'll do my best. Garcia out." When they cut the feed she turned to her companion with a bemused smile. "BB?"

"Bureau Baby. I haven't picked a name yet and the men," she said that last part with a faux serious look and a sarcastic tone, "decided that we had all been calling him Him or The Baby for too long. Hence, BB."

She couldn't hold back a grin. "Had to be Derek."

"Got it in one."

"Well, my man is a strange one."

The little grin that came with Penelope Garcia's last statement didn't escape Emily's notice, and she found that she couldn't suppress a grin of her own. "You two seem so happy, and you both still get this goofy grin every now and then, like you've forgotten you're together and when you say something you remember all of the sudden."

Garcia turned away from her screens to look at her friend again. "Are we really that bad?"

There was regret in the question, and it saddened Emily to know it. "Garcia, you don't have to try and tone things down or hide the fact that you're happy, just like JJ and Will don't have to."

"I just feel so awful, knowing…"

"Don't. Aaron…" Her breathing hitched a bit, just like it always did when she mentioned his name. "Aaron and I had something amazing, but you know he would be thrilled that the two of you finally got your act together. He was a good man."

She winced at the use of the past tense. "We don't know that he's really gone, Em."

As was pretty much automatic for her, her hands went to her belly to rub as she spoke of him. "I know in my heart that he wouldn't have left me, Garcia, whether he knew about the baby or not. He wouldn't have left us."

"No, but that doesn't mean that he isn't still out there somewhere."

"Doesn't it? If he's not dead, then what? He was kidnapped, tortured? Trust me I've run through all the possibilities, each of them more horrible and less likely than the previous."

Garcia shook her head. "Less likely doesn't mean impossible."

Emily smiled sadly. "You're right, it doesn't. But there came a time when I had to accept it, even if it was the last thing I wanted to do." She was used to the tears by now, and brushed them away without a second thought. "He's gone, but I'm still here, and so is BB."

"So are we," Penelope told her, reaching out to press her hand over Emily's on her tummy. "We're here for both of you and we always will be."

"I know, and he'll know his father, through all of us."

##########################################################################################################

Aaron Hotchner hadn't yet given up hope. In the months since he had been taken he'd cycled through every emotion humanly possible, but he had never lost hope. He didn't know where he was, didn't know who had him; but he knew he would find a way. He would find a way to get out of the cell they kept him in, barely more than a hole in the dirt.

Every night while he was surrounded by darkness and the smell of the earth he could hear the others cry out, from nightmares or their own demons he didn't know. He never made a sound, wouldn't give them the satisfaction. It had been months since he'd uttered anything more than a few words at a time.

Despite the circumstances, he still felt hope course through him. He was far from stupid, and extraordinarily observant. He'd worked up a full profile of his captors in his head; he knew what made them tick. Hotch knew them, knew their strengths and weaknesses; and it was that knowledge that would eventually get him out of there. It would be knowledge that he would use to get back to his friends, his son, and the woman he loved.

He worked day by day and step by step, and for the moment he blocked out the sounds that rang out around him, he sank willingly into sleep, and for another night he saw Emily's face in his dreams.


	3. What's Left Behind

Note From the Author—Okay, close to four hours later this chapter is finally done. This is why I usually write straight fluff or angst, people. There's so much less to worry about. After tweaking and retweaking a bunch of things I'm putting this up and hoping it's up to the freakishly high standards I set for myself. Sigh

The team was en route to the local police station minutes after they hit the ground. A uniformed officer who would have been beautiful had it not been for the severe bun she wore her hair in brought them up to speed. Unfortunately there wasn't a lot she could tell them that they didn't already know or hadn't figured out. Still, it took up the time in the short drive, something that had the potential to be awkward during a case.

When they made it into the station their driver peeled off and a barrel chested, grey haired man approached them with his hand outstretched. "Detective Doug Johansen, you must be Agent Morgan." The accent was thick, and pure Tennessee.

Derek took the offered hand and shook it firmly. " SSAIC Derek Morgan, our media liaison Jennifer Jareau, Dr. Spencer Reid, and SSA David Rossi. You'll meet our technical analyst Penelope Garcia and SSA Emily Prentiss later by satellite feed."

"Short handed back home?" Johansen asked wryly.

It was Rossi who answered. "The first tends to stay in her own little corner of the world, the second is eight months pregnant."

"Seems like a good reason to me. We've got you guys all set up through here." He led them into a conference room which looked remarkably like theirs, complete with white board and plasma.

"It looks great, thank you," JJ told him.

"No problem. What else can we do for you? I know it'll take a bit to work up a profile but what can we do to help?"

Reid looked around at the boxes of files surrounding them. "Is this everything you have?"

Johansen shrugged. "The basics mostly. We weren't exactly sure what y'all would need."

"We'll take everything you have; down to the last scrap of paper. Often times something that seems insignificant can break a case."

He nodded. "Okay, I'll work on getting that together for you. Coffee's through there; let us know if you need anything at all and we'll get a uniform on it."

"Thank you," Derek said sincerely, shaking the man's hand. When Johansen was gone he turned back to the team. "Let's set up the link to Garcia and Em."

Reid went to work doing so, and as soon as it was ready Garcia popped onto their screen. "What can I do for you my loving Adonis?"

Morgan tried and failed to hold back the smile. "Baby Girl, what if we hadn't been the only ones in the room?" he teased.

"I you would have very clearly explained that your beautiful and talented significant other has a very unique way of expressing yourself, like you always do."

When the laughter died down they decided it was time to get serious. "Have you two found anything?" Dave questioned.

Garcia shook her head. "At this point, not really. I've been searching through missing persons and I've only gotten a couple of hits. I'm not sure how great of prospects they are, but Emily said send them on. We're still looking, but you have no idea how many people are missing in this country."

"That it?" Morgan asked,

"Patience oh gorgeous one, here's Emily."

True enough, Emily entered the frame. "We've been having a similar problem with independent beer labels; I never imagined just how many of them there are. We're only into the Ds, but so far everyone is looking entirely legit. I'm keeping an eye out for any whose operations are unusually isolated or far from civilization and any with owners or higher level employees with priors."

"I got the impression you had something Em, don't disappoint me now," Derek said with a smile.

"Do I ever?" She questioned. "I put some feelers out with my mother's people…"

JJ grinned. "You make them sound like they're from another planet."

One dark eyebrow raised. "Might as well be most days. Anyway, one Gregory Preston the Third, thirty-five, went missing nearly ten months ago."

"Nice pretentious political name," Rossi commented.

"Don't I know it. His family and his fiancée are very old money and close friends of the governor. I've actually met Gregory a couple of times. He's a bastard, but that's beside the point," she said, ignoring Garcia's snort. "Gregory the Third disappeared from his pent house apartment the night after meeting a friend at the Seagull Bar and Grill. Looks like another one taken by our unsub."

Reid nodded. "It certainly seems like it. Have you had any luck with the prior offenses?"

Emily sighed. "Like I said, whippings and putting people in slave collars aren't that common. We've managed to dig up a couple of potential incidents and charges, but most of those turned out to be S and M related."

"Keep looking, there has to be something else there, but don't overwork yourself."

"Morgan, don't think that I can't find a way to slap you from this distance, because I could."

She disappeared from the frame and they all heard a door shut as Garcia reappeared. "Derek you have got to quit hounding her. You're making her feel like she doesn't know how to take care of herself or that baby."

"Damn it, Baby Girl you know that's not what this is about."

"Maybe I do, but obviously Emily doesn't. If anything's overworking her it's fighting the urge not to punch you, and I'm feeling her pain. I'll fax over those files."

The screen went blank and Derek wasn't surprised to find everyone in the room looking at him when he turned around. "Shit."

JJ nodded. "Yeah I'd say so. Talk to her as soon as you get a chance, and make it clear that you're not nearly as big of an ass as she thinks right now. I'm going to go find out what they've done as far as the media."

She was gone in seconds and Morgan sank into a chair. "I hate this."

"We all hate it," Reid told him.

"Hotch was supposed to be here for all of this, and there's nothing we can do to make it better for her because he's not," Dave said. "But we also can't put her in a bubble."

Any reply was stopped by the beep of the fax. Garcia's files had come through, and it was time then to go to work.

##############################################################################

Over an hour later they hadn't learned a whole hell of a lot more. They were combing through the files Johansen brought them and the ones Garcia had sent to them, but it was slow going when they were down two team members.

It occurred to Reid as he set aside yet another unhelpful piece of information that they should probably hire someone new. It was difficult enough without Hotch there, but when Emily went on maternity leave it would be almost impossible, and eventually the Bureau wouldn't put up with them working short-handed any longer. But he had already discarded the idea by the time he picked up his next file. He knew the statistics better than anyone, but he wouldn't give up on Hotch yet, and he knew Morgan wouldn't either.

He began to read through the file in front of him, the one on Gregory Preston the Third. Something about it was so familiar that he wondered if he had already read through it, and then it hit him. "Guys, I think I've got something." Three heads snapped up to look at him and he continued as fast as he could. "I think I found the connection between the victims and potentials."

"What?" Derek questioned.

He shook his head. "It's small, so small that it could be nothing; but if I'm right and they all have this in common…."

"Just tell us," JJ requested.

"Okay, according to the file Gregory Preston went out the night before he disappeared with a friend. That friend was interviewed and the last conversation they had was about Preston's upcoming wedding to his longtime girlfriend."

Rossi was unimpressed. "And? People get married or talk about their significant others in bars all the time."

"But look." Reid scrambled around the table gathering files. "The first victim that was found, according to friends the conversation they had in the bar the night before he went missing was all about life as a recent newlywed. Victim three talked about how he was planning on proposing the next week. The newest victim, just married when he went missing."

"That's the connection," Derek said. "I'll get Garcia."

When the technical analyst's face appeared on the screen she looked thoroughly not amused. "What?"

Reid sat down in front of the computer, drawing her attention away from Morgan "Garcia can you pull up the tape of the unsub from one of the bars?"

"Which one?"

"Any, just pull something up."

She did so, but shook her head. "I've done everything I can with the tape, I can't identify the guy with his face only partially visible and in costume."

"We're not looking to ID him, we need to know how long he was in the bar."

Her eyes scanned the time signature on the tape as she fast forwarded. "Looks like he was in the Sea Gull for about three hours. He talked to the manager and bartender then stuck around for drinks."

"Check another Garcia, please."

"Okay, victim number two's pub, our unsub was there for two and a half hours."

"Thank you Garcia." Rossi reached over to cut the feed and turned back to the others. "That's it. The unsub waited in the bar until he heard someone use a buzz word. If he's only taking people about to get married or recently married he obviously has some sort of issue with the entire institution."

"Like what?" JJ asked.

Morgan picked it up. "Could be he was jilted by a fiancée, cheated on by a new wife; he could be the problem himself. It's possible that he's displacing the guilt he feels onto others."

"But why the brewery?" she questioned. "How does that fit in?"

"Everyone has to make a living," Rossi told her. "It's most likely that the brewery is his livelihood and the slave labor is a convenient way of either transferring his own guilt by punishing these men, or a way of directly punishing them for having what he somehow lost. We need to…" Rossi but off abruptly, going completely silent as his eyes widened.

The others watched him in confusion as he stood stock still. "Dave," Morgan urged. "We need to do what?"

He only shook his head. "I can't believe I didn't see it. Why the hell didn't it occur to me?"

"Dave what's going on?" JJ was beginning to get concerned, and she wasn't alone.

The blonde was promptly ignored as Rossi turned to focus on Reid and Morgan. "Sean stopped by on his way through town the night before Hotch went missing."

"We all know that Rossi," Morgan said.

"Yeah, but the last time we went over the file we have on Hotch we went over what Sean told the police. Do you remember?"

"Wait a minute, you've still been looking for Hotch?" JJ cried. "Emily asked you to stop months ago, why on earth would you completely go against her wishes?"

"If you still want to smack me in a minute feel free," he told her. "But you two, think. What did Sean tell the police?"

It didn't take long for the light to glimmer, and a stunned looking Morgan looked straight at JJ the next time he spoke. "Get Garcia back."

"Would one of you tell me what the hell is going on?" Even out of the loop she worked on re-linking the feed Dave had cut.

Reid shook his head. "I can't believe none of us saw it."

"Hey!" Every one of them turned to look at JJ when her voice rang out through the room. "It would be a very bad idea to keep ignoring me."

"Sean Hotchner told the police that the night before Hotch went missing, the two of them met up at O'Reilly's Pub."

Her hand went to her heart as she paled. "Oh God, please don't tell me they were talking about…"

"The surprise honeymoon Hotch was planning for Emily."

Garcia appeared on screen. "Okay seriously guys, you're pissing me off."

"Garcia I need you to go and get a file out of my office," Rossi told her.

"Sir, have we not been over this type of thing before?" she questioned tiredly.

But it was JJ who responded to her. "Penelope, please listen to him. Please."

The fear in her eyes and the somber nature of the men in the room had her more worried than she had been in a long time. "What's going on?"

Even as aggravated as she was, her eyes immediately searched out Derek. "It's about Hotch, Baby Girl. We think it's possible that our unsub is the one that took him."


	4. Springing Eternal

Note From the Author—Okay, so I've failed at updating, and for that I really am sorry. My only excuse is that I've been finishing up a Tin Man story and that was bouncing around in my head so much it was my entire focus. But now that story is done and we're back to Emily and the team, with a brief appearance from Hotch and his captors and a moment of something I can't stop myself from putting in here.

"Emily, you can't just take off to Tennessee!" Garcia cried as she trailed her friend through the bullpen.

Prentiss already had her hand on the ready bag at her desk. "Watch me."

Penelope shook her head and physically blocked the woman's only path. "Stop for a minute and think about this Em. The doctor said no flying, you haven't used that ready bag since before you popped and…"

She trailed off and Emily's eyes met hers. "And what?"

"And I don't want you to get your hopes up," she whispered.

With a sigh, Emily plopped down into her chair. It was clear that all the wind had gone out of her sails. "I'm not getting my hopes up Garcia."

"Aren't you?" she questioned as she took a seat on the edge of the desk. "Not two days ago you were telling me that you accepted the fact that Hotch would probably never come home. Now you're ready to take off because there may or may not be a chance that a serial killer is holding him captive as a slave? Those aren't good odds, and I don't want this to break you."

The two friends' eyes met and when Emily saw that tears were threatening to fall from Garcia's she felt miserable. "Don't you dare cry, you know it's not fair with my hormones."

She laughed. "I know, it's fighting dirty; but I'm worried and I can't help it."

The conversation had turned serious again and Emily nodded. I know you're worried, but hear me out? Please?" A nod gave her the okay and she took a deep breath. "I told you that I've known since the beginning that Aaron wouldn't have left me, and this…" she trailed off, dropping a hand to her stomach as the baby kicked. "Sorry. I did accept that he was probably dead. I let myself lose hope; but Garcia, this could mean that he's still out there somewhere. And if he is, you know he hasn't given up trying to find a way out."

"If, Em. If the unsub has him and if he's still alive. That's an awful lot of hope to hang on a maybe."

"Look at us with our roles reversed. Wasn't it you trying to convince me not to give up hope?"

She grinned. "I guess you're persuasive."

Emily nodded. "I guess, but either way I'm going down there. Maybe I was stupid to give up hope so quickly; and if there's a chance that BB and I can get his father back, I'm taking it."

If there was one thing Penelope Garcia had learned at the BAU it was that there was really no use in fighting with a determined profiler. So with a sigh, she stood. "I'll get a Bureau car. Emily do you have any idea how far it is from here to Mephis?"

She didn't even look up as she gathered paperwork and everything she had brought with her that morning. "850 miles, give or take. Though it'll be closer to 900 after we stop at my place and yours."

"Of course."

##############################################################################

By the next morning Morgan was completely frantic. Emily's phone was turned off, Garcia wouldn't answer him, and he hadn't heard from either of them in something like ten hours.

"You're going to wear a hole in the carpet," Rossi commented.

It was only six in the morning, and Derek was pacing through their hotel room while Rossi read the paper, still in his pajamas. "Anything could have happened. All I got was a 'we're fine' text message. Emily could have gone into labor, they could have been in an accident…"

"Having a pregnant agent and a girlfriend has made you paranoid. You honestly think Garcia wouldn't have called us if Emily was having the baby?"

He blew out a hard breath. "I know, but you never know what could…" His phone rang and he scrambled to pick it up. "Baby Girl where the hell have you been?"

"In a car for going on ten hours, so don't you dare start getting pissy with me Derek Morgan."

"Where are you?" he asked.

Garcia sighed. "Following the GPS somewhere between Virginia and Tennessee; I'm not sure where exactly. It took a while to get the car, then we had to pack bags and we left really late. Emily can't get behind the wheel so I've been driving all night."

Morgan felt the weight ease back off of his chest. "Okay, why didn't you let me know?"

"I did," she told him, clearly exasperated. "We're fine was as good as it got. Emily's exhausted and she's been sleeping almost the entire way. I didn't think it was wise to either wake up the pregnant woman to call you or kill us both because I was driving with no sleep AND trying to talk on a cell phone."

"Okay, I'm sorry Mama I was just worried."

There was a crackle on the line as Garcia was evidently handed some sort of fast food. "We're stopped right now for food so I thought I would let you know what's going on. I'm going to wake Emily up to eat and keep driving. We should be there in a few more hours"

"When she's up make sure you keep in touch," he told her. There was a pause on the line and he smiled. "I love you Baby Girl."

"Love you too."

Derek disconnected the call and turned back to find David smiling at him indulgently. "Maybe I won't say 'I told you so.'"

"Go for it."

Rossi shook his head. "Nah, I'm good. Let's get ready and get the others."

##############################################################################

A knock sounded on JJ's door at an hour that she still considered way too early, even after all of her years with the BAU. Even so, she was happy for the excuse to end her conversation.

"Look, I've got to head to the station so I'll have to talk to you later." She shut her eyes against the yelling on the other end. "I guess it's a good thing we've come to this decision then. Look just leave the papers and it'll all be over with." Her voice softened. "Give Henry a kiss for me."

Frustrated tears pushed at her as she snapped her phone shut, but she fought them off and headed for the door. Reid was standing there waiting with his customary half smile. "We're meeting down in the lobby, and Morgan found Garcia and Emily. They're driving and they'll be here in a couple of hours."

She nodded. "Okay, well I just need to grab my jacket. It'll only take a second."

To many others it would seem that Jennifer Jareau was perfectly fine; but then Reid had never been one of the others. He was almost freakishly observant, and had made a habit of surveying JJ. Something was wrong. He pushed the door shut quietly and followed her into her room. "Is everything okay?" he asked.

JJ turned to face him, ready to put up the brave face; but the concerned look on his face gave her pause and she let out a stunned laugh. "No, and if you've noticed then it's obviously worse than I thought." She sank into the chair at the room's little desk. "So no, nothing's okay."

Reid took a seat on the bed. "Do you want to talk about it?"

It always threw her when Spencer directed all of his incredible capacity for focus at her. But there always seemed to just be something about him that made her want to let everything spill out. "There are divorce papers waiting at my apartment."

The admission completely blew him away. "What happened?"

She shrugged halfheartedly. "I don't know. We started fighting all the time, started wanting to be away from each other more than we wanted to be with each other. I don't know, maybe getting married was a mistake in the first place. I've been wondering ever since if the only reason we ended up going through with it was because of Henry."

"How long has this been going on?" he questioned.

"You remember when Henry started coming over once a week for quality time with his Godfather while Mommy and Daddy had date nights? Therapy."

Okay now he had been knocked on his ass. "That was almost a year ago. JJ why didn't you tell me?"

Those hated tears were shining in her eyes again and she brushed at them impatiently. "At first I thought it was going to help. Then things started going even further down hill, but Hotch went missing. I didn't want to add to everyone's burden."

His eyes were wide and adorably confused. "How could you think that you having problems and being in pain would have been a burden to us?"

"The mind is a mysterious thing, but right now we need to get downstairs before Morgan send up the cavalry." She stood and pulled on her jacket and was headed towards the door when she was pulled firmly into a hug. "Spence," she said softly, appreciating the support and the feel of him despite everything. She couldn't think of anything else to say.

Reid squeezed her to him briefly before letting go. "We'd better go."

##############################################################################

Emily and Garcia checked into the hotel later that day, and Penelope had barely made it out of the shower when they were heading back to the car. Which was why she met Detective Doug Johansen with her hair in braids and nothing but mascara on her face.

"You must be the technical analyst," the big man said as he held out his hand with a smile just inside the doors of the station.

"You were told to look for the frustrated woman with wet hair and a scowl?" she asked.

Johansen grinned. "No, but I knew one of you was the techie and one of you was the pregnant agent. Since you're clearly not pregnant I'm guessing you're the computer whiz."

Garcia couldn't help but smile; the man's grin was evidently infectious. "Penelope Garcia."

"Nice to meet you. So you must be Agent Prentiss then."

Emily held out her hand with a warm smile. "That's me."

"Nice to meet you both; if you'll follow me I'll catch you up with the rest of your team."

##############################################################################

Dean was thirty-six years old when he cheated on his wife. He had known it was a mistake at the time, but he had never dreamed just how big of a mistake. Two men he thought had been his best friends had come to him, shown him frighteningly incriminating pictures of him naked with his wife's secretary, and blackmailed him into working for them. Dean had been terrified of losing his life and his family and had agreed to do whatever they wanted in exchange for the pair of them keeping quiet. It was a decision he would regret for the rest of his life.

Blackmailed into working for them , having been turned into a glorified butler, he was a beaten man. But nothing came even remotely close to the beatings he witnessed day in and day out. Had he known what exactly these men had meant he never would have agreed; not to slavery and murder. It would have been easy to walk away at the beginning, but then he hadn't been fully in the loop. By the time they had brought him in on the horrible inner workings of the operation he knew it was too late.

By the time Dean was fully informed it had been too long for him to walk away. If he walked away from the job he would lose his wife and children. If he took what he knew to the police they would make sure that he was incriminated as a full participant, there word against his. He was too big a coward to risk losing everything. So he watched while people were enslaved and tortured and disposed of like garbage, and he brought the pair of them their whiskey.

Dean kept quiet as he opened the door to the study that night; they never noticed him anymore anyway. As if to prove his thoughts, both men began to talk over him as he picked up used plates and glasses.

"I told you that they would notice sooner or later. I told you to go further when you were disposing them!"

"And what, go over state lines? Risk getting pulled over or arrested with a body in the trunk? It's hard enough as it is."

"Well now the FBI's on the case, so we've got to do something."

"We should never have taken him."

"You know as well as I do that I didn't know who he was when we did…"

Dean knew he couldn't stay after everything was picked up. Then they would actually notice him there; so he took off with his head spinning. The FBI was in Memphis. What would happen then if they caught on, came busting into the compound and found him there?

As he made his way out of the main house and down into the labyrinth of tunnels and holding cells he tried desperately to work out some way he could get out of this. Each any every scenario he came up with seemed worse than the last. With a cry of frustration he turned and punched one of the walls. "I'm completely fucked."

"You know it's difficult enough to get any rest in this hell hole without you out there shaking the walls," a deep voice told him calmly.

Dean peered into one of the cells to find a dark haired, dark eyed man watching him with an intense look on his face. "Like the accommodations are so wonderful in the first place."

"My point exactly." He stood and walked to the bars. "You're the flunky who brings the food down every day aren't you?"

He probably should have resented being called a flunky by a man in a cage but he couldn't seem to find the will to care. "That's right."

"So do they have something on you, or do you just not have a soul?"

The man asked the question as if he were talking about the weather, entirely casual. "How would you know that they had something on me?" he asked impatiently.

He practically snorted. "Call me a good judge of character."

Dean didn't have time for a game, so he reached out for the tag that was hanging just to the right of the door's lock. "Aaron Hotchner." That name sounded so familiar to him, and then it hit him. The man they had been talking about in the study. Just before he had shut the door they had said a name; Hotchner. This guy was part of the FBI, maybe even a part of the team that had just rolled into Memphis looking for them. And he had seen Dean 's face. "You're the FBI agent," he said, fear palpable in his every word.

Aaron nodded and his voice dropped to a whisper. "Yes, and you're got a choice . I will get out of here sooner or later. You can help me out, and when I get out of here I can pass it on that you were trapped by blackmail and that you cooperated when I made a break. Or, you can keep sitting here and doing nothing about what's been going on right in front of you, and when I get out I can make sure you go down for this."

"So now you're blackmailing me too?" he asked quietly.

Hotch shrugged. "I'm locked in a cell half the time, and being used as a slave for the rest. I don't have a lot of other options available, and I'm not ashamed to do whatever I can to get out of here and back to the people I love." He walked back to the cell's inner wall and slumped down against it. "Think about it." He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, shutting the other man out.

For a moment Dean stood there gaping at the man. Then he realized that the detour had taken him a good five minutes, and if he didn't make it to the kitchen soon they would begin to miss him. If that happened one of the kitchen staff would be whipped while he watched, a punishment devised to keep his skin unmarred and his wife unaware. He knew too well that hearing another man scream his name in pain as he was tortured was more effective than feeling the blows against his own skin.

So he tried to put the encounter out of his mind and took off at a sprint for the kitchens. But no matter what he tried, Agent Hotchner's words still echoed in his head.

_I can make sure you go down for this_.

Note From the Author-- In regards to the JJ and Reid stuff, I have issues with Will. It's funny because I really liked him until he got with JJ; I guess my heart's always rooting for her and Reid.


	5. Playing The Game

A day after the team was reunited they all felt as if they had accomplished absolutely nothing. Poring over files, making lists and reading rap sheets was tiring and tedious work, but at that point there wasn't a whole hell of a lot else they could do. Two days later they had literally gone through every piece of evidence they had, and it didn't seem like they were going to learn anything else going over it again.

As Emily put down her last file, her hand went to press at her aching back. "That's all of it; every last thing."

Derek nodded and scrubbed a hand over his tired face. "We've been through everything, we're not going to learn anything. We've got to give them a profile soon, so let's go over what we've got."

"We've got twenty independent breweries that fit our rough geographic profile," Reid said, tapping the marker in his hand against the board. "None of them really stick out seeing as more than half of them are relatively isolated."

Rossi stood and stretched a bit before he added his two cents. "We only have about ten cases with wounds even remotely similar and like Emily said they're all S and M cases. We've got the list of violent offenders within the area but none of them perfectly fit the profile, and it's not like we can just go through a list of two hundred some-odd people and start knocking on doors. It wouldn't be efficient and it wouldn't be smart," he commented with a shake of his head. "We could spook our unsub."

"Okay, so what do we know for sure?" JJ asked.

Emily sighed. "We know that he goes after men who are about to have some sort of romantic milestone in their lives; weddings, engagements…"

Twenty minutes later they had officers gathered around them and they were sharing the profile they'd only recently made concrete in their minds.

"He's likely punishing these men for some transgression in his own past or that of a woman whom he loved deeply," Derek told them.

One rather skeptical looking officer spoke up then. "If it's the former case and it's something he did then why would he take it out on these guys?"

"He's displacing his anger or guilt, and it may be that the unsub doesn't even fully comprehend what he's doing."

Emily took over then. "And another thing; we believe it's likely that we actually have more than one unsub." A rippling murmur went through the room at that. "The bottom line is that the brewery ruse is most likely only halfway a front. Everyone has to make a living, and this abductor knew what he was talking about. If there really is a brewery , there's no way one unsub could do all of this alone."

She passed the profile seamlessly to Rossi who grimaced. "There are likely far more people involved than we think, probably being threatened or blackmailed into taking part, maybe even being treated as slaves themselves. We simply just don't know how far out this extends; but it's likely that there's two or three people who are the real higher ups of the operation."

"We're going to start canvassing, and these guys are going to tell you what to look for," Detective Johansen said with a nod towards Derek.

Morgan faced them all with his best head of the team face on. "We're looking for white males, mid-thirties to mid-forties. They're clearly methodical. The abductor waited in the bar until he heard just the right conversation and left no evidence."

"It's likely that we're dealing with a typical team here," Prentiss told them, unknowingly pressing a hand to her belly. "These men will spend a great deal of their time together and seem like comrades. If you look closer it will become very clear that one of them is actually dominant over the other."

"Why's that?" someone asked.

This time it was JJ who answered. "It's the nature of it. It's difficult to keep something like this going with two dominant personalities. There's almost always a more powerful personality and a submissive."

"In this particular case it's more likely to apply," Reid added. "Either they've both been wronged or have done wrong, or the dominant is the one with the issues and has coerced the submissive personality into participating."

Detective Johansen passed around a more complete hard copy of the profile to all of his men and women along with their list of breweries. "You'll be looking at all of these breweries, the people working there and the people in charge."

Derek nodded. "Anyone you talk to, anyone you get a name for, send it to our tech analyst." Garcia waved a hand. "She'll be running them against criminal records and anything else she can get her hands on."

"Pay careful attention to everyone you speak to," Emily cautioned. "Given the nature of these crimes it's likely that a disdain for women or for the institution of marriage, even for romance, will be abundantly clear in these unsubs. You very well may be able to pick up on it."

"Head out, and make sure you check in if you learn anything that even remotely strikes you," Johansen told them.

As the officers headed out Morgan and the team retreated back to their conference room. "Okay, Reid, you stay here with Garcia and see if that mysterious brain of yours can come up with any other amazing epiphanies; maybe see if you can make contact with some of the victims' families. Baby Girl, you keep doing what you've been doing and run anything the locals send back to you."

"Will do," Penelope told him with a smile.

"Detective Johansen got in touch with the fiancée and wife of the two most recent victims and they're still in town. I don't know if they can give us anything new but it's worth a shot. JJ and Rossi you take the fiancée, Emily and I will take the wife."

#################################################################################

While she and Morgan were en route to Mrs. Allison Tagliani's hotel, Emily couldn't help but wonder why Derek was even letting her out of the station, considering how overprotective he had gotten.

He caught the look on her face and sighed. "I let you come because I figure you know what this woman is going through," he told her without looking away from the road."

And she understood that he had chosen the wife for them because he knew that seeing the fiancée of the other victim would have hit a bit too close to home for her. "Thank you for not excluding me," she told him quietly, gazing out the window.

"Like I really had a choice," he joked. "If Garcia couldn't keep you in Virginia nothing could."

"True," she granted.

He shook his head and when he spoke again he drew her gaze to him. "Em, I don't want you to get your hopes up."

She gave a half-hearted laugh. "You sound just like Garcia."

"My girl's smart. I worry, you know that I worry."

"Yes, I know a bit too well that you worry. Derek I appreciate it and I get it but I'm a really big girl. If I hadn't grown up a long time ago I would have when my fiancée disappeared before I could tell him I was pregnant." He brought the car to a stop and she yanked off her seatbelt. "Quit worrying about me."

Morgan wondered at his sanity egging on a pissed off pregnant woman but he went after her, even after she slammed the door and began to stalk towards the hotel lobby. "Em, just hold on for a second." He caught up with her and grabbed her arm as gently as he could, not surprised when she shook him off, but surprised when he saw the tears shining in her eyes. "Shit, Em don't cry because of me."

"I'm not," she told him, wiping furiously at her eyes. "I'm crying because I'm eight months pregnant and…" She couldn't go on.

It was odd for them, but seeing her like that Derek couldn't do anything else but pull her into his arms. "I'm sorry, so sorry."

"I know," she whispered. "Everybody is sorry, and I know that you're all going through this too, but he's my fiancé, this is our baby."

"And we can't possibly know how you're feeling," he added. "I'm just afraid that you're not going to get what you want or need out of this case."

Emily pulled back enough to look at him. "Maybe I won't; but, Derek, I have to know."

The resolve in her voice and in her eyes had him, and he knew there was no way he could deny her trying to figure out if Hotch was involved in this case. "Promise you'll tell me if it gets to be too much."

"I will."

Knowing he had to trust her, he nodded and dropped a kiss to her forehead, lingering a moment before pulling back. "Let's go speak to Mrs. Tagliani."

#################################################################################

Only a few hours later a folder was dropped abruptly onto a desk, making the man sitting there look up with his eyes narrowed. "And what is this?" the first questioned.

The second sat, a satisfied look on his face. "Photographs, of the FBI agents in the city."

"You followed them!" the first hissed.

"Take a look at them," the second said casually.

The first flipped through the photographs, stopping at one of a dark skinned man and a dark haired woman. "Her, why do I know her?"

The second reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet that he tossed across the desk. "From the discard room."

"You mean to tell me…" He stopped when he came to the picture of a smiling woman with a little boy on her lap. "whose wallet is this?"

"Aaron Hotchner, the FBI agent."

Panicked eyes flew from the photograph. "It's his team, here? We're dead."

"Don't count your chickens yet. They haven't come anywhere near us yet. They're busy talking to wives and having officers check breweries. We're at the bottom of the list; they probably won't even get to us until tomorrow or the next day and you know that we look completely legitimate from the ground floor up."

"Why the pictures?" the first questioned. "What possible good can they do us?"

The second shook his head. "This is why I make the plans. We're going to take this photo," he said, picking one out of the stack, "and we're going to play a little game."

#################################################################################

Hotch knew something was going on the second he caught sight of the two men who had shoved him in the cell for the first time so many months ago; but though he was burning to ask questions or rage he knew it wouldn't do any good. Instead, he sat in the corner of his cell and kept his mouth shut.

"Aaron Hotchner," the second said. "Looks like you're colleagues are on the scent of a killer."

He merely raised an eyebrow. "And?"

The second nodded to the first, who tossed a picture through the bars at Hotch's feet. "Seems they're in town," he commented, trying not to show the fear he was feeling at that fact.

Hotch picked it up, preparing himself to make his face blank. It was only his FBI training that kept him from falling apart at the sight of Emily and Derek; even then he couldn't hide it all. The photograph showed them from the shoulder up; the pair of them standing close together, Emily's hands on Morgan's shoulders while he kissed her forehead sweetly. He knew what it could have looked like to anyone else, like the they were lovers. But his eyes caught the sparkle on Emily's left hand and he had to shut down completely to keep the joy from shining through. She was wearing her ring, she hadn't given up.

Casually, he tossed the photo back. "And?" he asked again.

The second smirked. "We simply wanted to give you some food for thought. They're here, Agent Hotchner, and if they get too close…" He let that hang. "Something to think about."

#################################################################################

"That did absolutely nothing for us," the first said when they returned to the study. "Why didn't you show him the wide angle? If he had seen that she was pregnant we could have convinced him…"

"What?" the first asked derisively. "That the baby isn't his? Do you honestly think that an FBI agent, a profiler, wouldn't have done the math. Any idiot can tell how pregnant she is, and count back to before he was taken. No, this is better."

The first went to the bar, poured three fingers of whiskey and downed the contents of the glass in one shot. "How the hell is this better?"

"Didn't you see the look in his eyes?" the second cried. "He loves that woman more than anything in the world, and he showed us that. Now we're going to use it to our advantage."

"How?" the first questioned, almost desperate.

The second walked to the bar in a considerably calmer manner than his partner had and poured his own drink. He gazed down at the liquid contemplatively, swirling it as he spoke. "We're going to have some fun with Hotchner's woman, and we're going to show his team exactly who's running this game." With a gruesome smile he turned to the first. "I think it's about time the FBI had another body to work with."

Note From The Author—It took a while to update this, mostly because I only write when I'm truly inspired, and I wasn't about to crank out a subpar chapter for this just for the sake of an update/ I sincerely hope this chapter makes up for the wait, though I will ask you to keep in mind that I'm not a profiler. I'm not an FBI agent, a psychologist, or even a psychology major. My history degree and all of the seasons of Criminal Minds on DVD don't make me capable of profiling. Just keep that in mind, it's all I ask ; ) Either way, let me know what you think.


	6. Running The Show

When Emily and Derek returned to the station it was with very little insight into what had happened to their vic. The wife had been too distraught over the loss of her husband to tell them much of anything beyond the fact that he had been a good man and she had no idea why this had happened to them.

By some miracle they were the first ones back, so they worked with Reid and Garcia on the calls that were coming in and took a second look at some of their files. Emily made a couple of painful calls to the families of the other victims and managed to glean absolutely nothing from the experience other than that each and every person was completely devastated.

"Anything?"

Derek looked up from the file in front of him in time to see JJ and Rossi cruise through the door. "Nothing," he said with a shake of the head. "You?"

JJ sighed. "About what you would expect; she had no idea how this could have happened, why it did. We know a bit more about the victim but all things considered I don't think the fact that he had a dog named Sherlock will help us catch our unsub."

Reid cracked the smallest of smiles. "I suppose you never know."

"Did anything pan out with the breweries the officers investigated?" Dave asked.

Garcia looked up from her computer for the first time then. "Not really. The officers made it to about ten of the breweries before Johansen told them to call it a day about an hour ago. I cross referenced every single person they talked to and the majority of the employees of all the operations but there isn't a lot standing out." She glanced at her notes. "Putting a pipe bomb in a toilet at an empty gas station and getting drunk off your ass and driving your truck through the front of a Wal Mart doesn't really make you a serial killer."

"Those are the only criminal records?" Morgan asked her

"Well, that and a couple of petty theft charges, domestic disputes, etc. etc. I'm no expert but none of these people seem like hardened criminals."

Derek was up on his feet by then, surveying his team. They all looked like hell, mostly like they hadn't slept in weeks. They were all trying their best to ignore the fact that Hotch could be wrapped up in the case, and the fact that Emily was edging in on nine months pregnant. None of them knew what they would do if she went into labor; and they all knew that with the stress of everything she was going through there was real potential for her to do so.

It didn't take him long to come to the decision he made. "Let's head back to the hotel. It's getting late and the officers are done canvassing for the day; there's not a lot left for us to do here at this point."

Reid was on the verge of arguing with him. Then he saw the way Emily slumped in her chair with her hand pressed to her belly and the circles under JJ's eyes and he nodded. "That's probably our best bet. Things may look different in the morning."

The others looked at him just a bit strangely, not used to hearing platitudes and clichés out of his mouth. But still, they weren't about to complain over getting some extra sleep. So they picked up their things and trudged out to the cars.

Nobody quite realized how exhausted they were, but it became pretty clear when JJ, Emily and Dave fell asleep on the car ride to the hotel. Rossi woke up the second his car stopped, and he looked back at the dozing Emily with a half smile. "Should we wake her up?" he asked Morgan.

He shook his head. "I think that's our best bet. I'd carry her but just our luck I'd trip or something and that's not a risk we want to take all things considered."

As Dave reached back to wake Emily, Garcia and Reid were having a very similar talk.

"She looks so peaceful," Penelope said as she looked back at her friend. "I don't want to wake her up."

"We won't then," Spencer told her. He and Garcia hopped out of the car about the time that Rossi offered a hand to Emily to help her out of the SUV. The whole team watched as he leaned into the car and unbuckled JJ before swinging her up into his arms.

The care with which he handled her didn't escape any of them, and as Reid carried their media liason into the hotel Emily shook her head. "Something's going on with her."

Garcia nodded, but she knew there wasn't much to be done. "She'll tell us when she's ready."

"Come on," Derek said, nudging Garcia gently. "Let's head in."

#################################################################################

As much as she appreciated the sleep, Emily's dreams rather quickly began to lead towards nightmares. She had a vivid dream about Hotch's funeral, complete with Jack crying at her side and Hayley staring coldly down at the grave. She dreamt the speech she made, the words Morgan said, and the coffin being lowered into the ground. Then the dream Emily let her walls crumble, and her breathing caught painfully in her chest as she noticed the tiny grave next to Hotch's; the headstone reading nothing more than BB, the birth date and date of death only days apart. Her heart pounded so heard that she swore she could hear it, then she realized the pounding was coming not from her dream, but from her hotel room. With a gasp, she shot straight up in bed, her hand flying to her belly as she watched Garcia go to answer the door. Without preamble,

Derek strode into the room with a grim look on his face. "Another body just turned up, five miles from where they found the last."

Emily glanced at the clock, the glowing readout displaying Four in the morning. "Damn it," she swore as she struggled to get her hugely pregnant self out of bed.

"Em, maybe you should just stay here," Derek suggested, glancing briefly at Garcia, who nodded.

The look she shot him could have melted glass, it was so intense. "If you think I'm going to sit here in this hotel room while you all go off to take a look at the newest body then you have literally lost your mind."

Morgan crossed his arms over his chest, his look resolved. "Fine, you can come; but there's a catch."

"This will go well," Garcia murmured under her breath.

He tried to ignore her and looked back towards Emily. "If I say go, you go. I may be your best friend Emily, but I'm your boss too. If and when I tell you to come back to the hotel or the station to rest, you will do it."

For a moment they just glared at each other, but finally she gave in with a sigh and a nod. "Fine. If you give me an order, I'll obey it."

"Good. We're out of here in twenty."

################################################################################

In many cases, as callous as it sounded, another body was actually helpful to the team. Every victim was a chance to find something new and a chance that the unsub would screw up; no matter how awful that was. But these unsubs seemed somehow different, and it had been a long time since the team had learned so very little and had so little to go on.

Either way, looking at the new dump site and the new body wasn't something they could avoid. So they all piled into the cars and headed out at four thirty in the morning to see what they could find. The drive seemed longer than it should have been, largely due to the early hour; but a run to the local coffee shop kept most of them awake, even if it almost pained Emily that her doctor wouldn't let her have it.

When they reached the dump site they found it crawling with police personnel, crime scene workers and several people from the coroner's office. Detective Johansen met them at the cars and ran it down for them in a tired voice. "A couple of drunk college students who stepped off the main road to take a leak found the body. White male with the same markings as the others that have been found. The coroner only just gave us the okay to move the body so we decided we may as well wait for you."

"Any ID on him?" Derek asked.

Johansen shook his head. "Not a thing, not that I'm surprised. This body was found much closer to the road though."

"The unsubs may have been in a hurry or afraid they were going to get caught," Reid told him, craning his neck to see around the throng of people. "It happens."

"This is an escalation," Emily commented, mimicking Reid as she tried to make out the body. Johansen noticed and motioned for people to clear a path. "It could either be good for us or it could be a complete…"

Emily's words cut off abruptly as her air supply did the same. She caught sight of the body and suddenly her vision tunneled, leaving her unable to focus on anything but the body that lay face down in the dirt. The dark hair, the pale skin, the build; she could practically see the haunting dark eyes though she couldn't see the victim's face.

"Oh my God," she sobbed out.

Reid was barely able to catch her as her knees gave out, and he held onto her as they hit the ground. "Turn the body over!" he cried out.

For a moment everyone just stared, not quite comprehending what was going on. Then Morgan strode quickly towards the coroner. "Show me the face damn it."

Emily trembled as they waited. She couldn't see anything but that dark hair, and she waited with tears streaming down her cheeks for the coroner to move the body, for confirmation or denial of her worst fear. "It can't be him, it can't be." She felt Reid's arms tighten around her as they both watched.

The coroner finally did what Morgan asked, and the entire team waited with their breath caught in their throats to see what would happen. Then in a split second the face was turned upward, and a collective sigh of relief seemed to run through them. The empty eyes looking toward the early morning sky were a cloudy green, and it was all they needed to see.

Though she had the concrete proof that it wasn't Aaron, Emily couldn't stop the shaking, nor could she end the sobs that wracked her body. She was struggling for every breath, and she didn't even see the movement when JJ dropped to her knees in front of her.

"Em," she said, bringing a hand to either side of her friend's face. "It's not him. It's not Hotch." Her eyes met Reids, both of them clearly showing their worry as he did the only thing he could think of and rocked Emily back and forth in his arms. "You have to calm down Em, this isn't good for the baby."

Those words seemed to be the only ones that could get through to her. Her eyes focused in on JJ's and she took several slow deep breaths, trying to calm down her raging heart. "I thought…"

"I know," JJ told her. "But it's not him. It's not."

She shook her head. "It isn't him, but now we know that they have him."

"How?" the blonde questioned, completely confused.

"There's a reason they picked this man for the next victim. The build, the coloring, the resemblance to Hotch in everything but the face; it was all done on purpose."

Derek nodded as he, Rossi and Garcia came up behind JJ. "He's right. They know we're here, and they killed this man and dumped him so close to the road hoping that we would find the body."

"He's screwing with us," Rossi added with a nod. "Trying to let us know who's running the show and trying to scare us."

Emily nodded, and she said the one thing nobody else wanted to. "It's only a matter of time before they kill Aaron to show us that they're untouchable."

Nobody knew what to say; nobody wanted to think about it. So Derek just glanced back at the body, and then turned to look Emily in the eye. "Reid and JJ are going to take you back to the hotel, and you're going to rest."

She nodded, not wanting to argue at all. "Alright."

Reid helped her to her feet and supported her as they walked to the car. JJ went quickly behind them after promising Derek she'd call as soon as Emily was asleep. It wasn't until Em was settled in the back of the car and Reid had them on the road that she let herself cry. And when Spencer's hand found hers over the gear shift she took it and held onto him like a life line.

#################################################################################

Moments after Hotch was led back to his cell for the day, the first and second came to speak to him again.

Without a word, the second tossed something at his feet; several pictures this time. "Take a look."

He kept his face blank as he sifted through the shots of a dark haired man, face down where he had clearly been dumped. There were several shots of the body, some close up and some wide angle; but it wasn't until he got to the last three that he felt fear and anger rise. He looked at a series of photos showing Emily and Reid, again from the shoulder up, with her leaning heavily on him as she left the SUV. There was a shot of JJ's concerned face and then a close up of Emily, her face tear stained and her eyes filled with fear.

Suddenly he understood exactly what they had done. They were screwing with Emily and the team, and though he knew he shouldn't have, he lashed out. "If you touch one hair on her head so help me God…"

The second only laughed, the first slowly joining with him. "What, Agent Hotchner? You're stuck here. We run the game, we make the rules. Just remember that."

They were gone moments later, and it was then that Hotch knew. They wouldn't stop tormenting the team, and they would do anything to make Emily believe that he wasn't coming back. It wouldn't be long before they would decide to get rid of him to. The time was now, there was no other choice. He would either have to get out of there, or sit there and wait to die


	7. Walls Closing In

It wasn't even six in the morning when they got back to the hotel, and it amazed JJ that so much emotional upheaval could go on before the sun even came up. Exhausted by her nightmares the real life terror she was dealing with, Emily fell asleep in the car. Under JJ's watchful eye, Reid carried her into the hotel and up to their block of rooms. With limited access to keys and little other choice, they played a game of musical beds. Emily was settled in JJ's room and Reid went back to his to make sure that everything was in some semblance of order.

Some ten minutes later JJ walked across the hall to Reid's room, flipping the latch that had been holding the door open and locking the door behind her. For a moment she just watched as he sat on the bed, legs out in front of him with a book in his lap. It was surprisingly endearing to her that he was wearing two different socks, and she wondered if he had even noticed. "I'm guessing she'll sleep for a while," she announced quietly, not wanting to startle him.

He looked up from his book with a smile. "I figured as much, considering that she practically passed out in the car."

JJ didn't give herself time to debate, she just kicked off her shoes and crawled up onto the bed next to him; she let her legs stretch out alongside his and leaned heavily into the pillows. "Am I the only one not sleeping?" she asked with a sigh.

Spencer shook his head. "No, no you're not the only one."

"I think my heart stopped when I saw that body. If it was that way for me I can't even imagine what it put Emily through."

He set his book aside and looked over at her. "She was shaking like a leaf."

"You were really good with her. I think you kept her from falling apart."

There was a pause as he seemed to contemplate that, then he shrugged. "I just did what made sense. She was there, I was there…"

JJ hated it when he downplayed things like this. Reaching out, she brushed a hand down his cheek. "It was more than that, and we both know it. You held her together, and you should be proud of that."

Reid nodded, feeling her hand hot against his skin. They were both quiet then, and when their eyes caught he was slightly stunned that what he saw in hers seemed to mirror what shone from his. "JJ," he started. "We know what we both want, but there are so many things."

She nodded, moving her hand down to twist with its mate in her lap. "I know, trust me, I do. I just…" When she looked back up at him there were tears shining in her eyes. "I just want to know what it feels like to be happy again," she whispered.

"I know," Spence told her. "But you're still married, and I can't…"

"I wouldn't ask you to. But for now can you just hold on?"

He was so bad with this sort of thing. He had an unfortunate habit of constantly missing the steps and saying the wrong things. But there had always been something about JJ that made him want to be careful to make all of the right moves. Now she was asking him for something that he had never dared to dream of, and once again he wasn't sure what to do. Deciding to go with his gut, or maybe it was his heart, he opened up. With JJ's head pillowed against his chest and his arms wrapped around her, the tightening in his chest seemed to ease a bit, and it wasn't long before they both drifted off to sleep.

#################################################################################

A couple hours later it seemed it was JJ's turn to be woken by pounding on the door. Though it was probably mere knocking rather than pounding, to her sleepy ears it was just as abusive as the latter. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes only to find that she had a face full of sweater vest.

Propping herself up on her elbow she realized that she and Reid had fallen asleep, and that evidently someone really needed to talk to them. "Spence," she sing songed, nudging him a bit. "Spence come on." But it was to no avail; he wouldn't budge. So JJ, in her sleep rumpled suit and sporting a fabulous bed head coif, went to get the door.

Rossi grinned the second he saw her. "Well, you aren't who I was expecting."

"Shut up, Dave," she said tiredly, fighting back a curse when her hand tangled in the hair she was trying to brush it through.

As fun as morning JJ was to tease, there was another reason he was there. "Derek and Garcia are getting Emily up. We need to get to the station and see what we can dig up on this latest body."

She nodded. "Ten minutes." Then she shut the door in his face. "Spence we've got to go."

There was a groan from the bed as he rolled over and forced his eyes open. "What time is it?"

"Eight thirty," she told him after glancing down at her phone. "Morgan wants us to head back to the station.

He sat up and regarded her for a moment, his head turned. "You may want to brush your hair before we do that."

The pillow she threw at him hit him squarely in the chest.

##################################################################################

They were back at the station and working before nine thirty. Their latest victim was a thirty six year old man named Jason Jarrod, and other than his parents evidently having a flair for alliteration there wasn't a damn thing about him that stood out. Like their other victims he had been close to a romantic milestone when he went missing. In fact, if things had gone as planned he and his fiancée would have become man and wife a week before he died.

"This is getting completely out of hand," Emily commented. "This many bodies, the fact that they're clearly taunting us. We have got to figure this out."

The Hotch issue had become a herd of elephants in the room; they were all having trouble ignoring it. But with what had happened with Emily earlier, they all felt that there really wasn't any choice other than to step around it. They wanted her safe and healthy, and any more stress on her system could send her into labor or put the baby in distress.

"We're running out of time, and we're running out of options," Derek said to the room at large. "Has anything helpful come in from the officers finishing the canvas of the breweries?"

Garcia's fingers worked frantically at her keyboard even as she spoke. "Nothing. They've reported back in about several more and none of the employees has anything more severe than a parking ticket on their record. They're squeaky clean."

"How many do they have left to visit?" Rossi questioned.

She glanced down at the list. "Three more; a place called Cures What Ales You Brewery, Tap That Brewery and Kustom Kegs."

"I hope we get something on the second just on principle," JJ said under her breath.

"There all we've got left. If we don't find anything at these three we're going to have to go back through the whole list and do another, more thorough sweep. These guys are good, and it's likely the entire slave operation is completely underground, literally and figuratively. It may take longer than we have to find them," Reid commented, the one member of the team who was always more than willing to be blunt. None of them needed him to cut the subtlety; they all knew what was at stake.

She had been avoiding it like the plague, but JJ knew that soon there wouldn't be any way around it. "If we don't get anything from these last three I'm going to have to make a statement to the press."

Derek shook his head. "Let's put that off as long as we can. Given this pattern they've established if they see us on TV it may push them over the edge."

"Or, given how much they want to prove they're in charge, if we put JJ on and challenge their supremacy they may make contact," Rossi mused.

"Or kill Hotch," JJ said sadly.

"For now we see if we can get something from these last three, and we go from there. A statement to the press is the last resort in this case. Let's run with everything we have so far and move on if we need to. No stone unturned."

He just hoped they would turn over the right one soon.

#################################################################################

The first stood looking out the window of the study, contemplating everything that had happened in the previous 24 hours. They were taking more risks, and though he could see why the second thought they were necessary, he also wondered if they weren't complicating things for themselves.

With a sigh he turned away from the window and sank into his chair, his hand finding the gin and tonic to his right with surprising dexterity. Their operation was isolated, centered on a sprawling plantation house that from the front completely hid their fields from view. Under the house was a labyrinth of tunnels that housed their workers; he couldn't bring himself to use the word slave, even though he knew that was exactly what they were.

They did a booming business, considering the number of independent breweries in the area; and nobody had any idea what was growing the hops and barley or controlling the brewing process. They made a living and exorcised their demons one way or another, and labor they didn't pay made for a good outlet for both.

Dean came in the room then, with the second trailing behind him and shouting some sort of order. The man hustled to do what he was asked as the second sat next to the first after helping himself to a drink.

"He was our friend once," the first muttered.

"And now he's our employee," the second responded sharply. "Isn't it funny how the world works?"

Dean pretended to ignore the conversation, but in reality every word was another blow to his pride. Gathering glasses on a tray, he happened to glance out the window, and his blood ran cold. "Mary mother of God," he whispered.

The first was on his feet in an instant, running to Dean's side. "Shit, it's the police." He turned to face the second with a near crazed look in his eye and fear in his voice. "What do we do."

The second kept his calm as he stood. "Dean, get everyone you can and get the workers out of the fields now." His voice was hard as steel. "Get them into the cells and lock every entrance to the tunnels before they can ask to be taken out back. Go!"

Left with no other choice, Dean took off for the tunnels, sealing the entrance he used behind him. For a split second he contemplated simply going to the cops, but the first and second would get to him before he could even try. For now there was nothing left to do but do as he was commanded to. He was in the same position as always, trapped.

When he entered the first tunnel of cells he grabbed the first person who could see. "The police are here. You need to take everyone you can and get all of the workers off of the fields. Now!"

The man took off, shouting to the others as he went. Dean watched him go as he stopped to catch his breath. He wouldn't go outside; wouldn't give himself the option of running to the cops and getting shot before he could manage to speak to any of them. In what seemed like seconds, people began to stream in, all terrified, all with their minds reeling.

Dean knew that some of the others, the ones like him, would have contemplated simply telling the police what was going on. He also knew that they would all have come to the same conclusions he had. But there was one worker who looked perfectly calm, actually he looked more satisfied than anything else.

Agent Hotchner shot a meaningful glance at Dean as he was led to his cell; and moment later when the clanging of doors rang out and people began to clear from the tunnel, Dean backtracked to the FBI Agent's cell. "What the hell was that about?"

Hotch knew how to play people, and he knew how to make them squirm. Standing at his full six foot two inches he was a four or five inches taller than Dean. The muscles that months of hard labor had enhanced were plainly evident as he crossed his arms across his chest. "They're going to lose Dean; we both know it."

"Neither of us knows anything."

He leaned forward. "No, you don't get it. Even if the police don't find anything today, they'll look into the backgrounds of every person they speak to. It won't take my team long to dig up every little detail they can. They'll figure it out, and when they do you're going to burn right along with them."

"What else am I supposed to do?" he hissed.

"Get me out of here, and I swear to you that I will make sure that you don't go down for this."

Dean was starting to feel frantic. He leaned toward the bars, whispering. "You can get me off."

Hotch scoffed. "You're not stupid enough to think that I can get you out of doing time. No matter what happened here I can get you to serve something closer to five than life."

He looked around nervously, making sure that nobody could hear them. "If, and it's an if, I decide to do this. How the hell would we pull it off anyway?"

The smirk seemed almost out of place on his face. "You're going to drive me out of here."

#################################################################################

Note From The Author—This many chapters so close together is what happens when my stress level goes through the roof. A friend in romantic crisis, a statewide competition that I'm trying to put together, and a job that sometimes makes me contemplate screaming at the top of my lungs… all of this lands me at my desk writing new chapters and listening to every Josh Groban song on my iPod (all 77). Anyway, I hope you're enjoying, and cyber high fives go to anyone who can spot the trait of one of our lovely characters that I borrowed from the actor who plays said character : )


	8. Making Or Breaking

Note From The Author—Y'all I am on a roll! I hope the content isn't suffering for it. Anyway, lots of Hotch in this chapter, ladies and gents; along with some more info on our unsubs. We're getting close; and as we get closer to the big stuff, keep in mind that I'm not a police officer either :)

Only a few hours later, Derek walked back into the conference room with an exasperated look on his face. "The officers didn't find anything obvious at the last three breweries."

"Did anything stand out at all?" Rossi questioned.

"I don't know. Garcia?"

Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she looked at the information the officers had given her. "One officer flagged Cures What Ales You because you guys mentioned a team and two men own the place. Other than that, not much."

Derek sighed. "It's all we've got to go on at this point. Emily, you and Reid start digging. Rossi, you, JJ and I will go back through the other breweries. Baby Girl, start looking into the owners of Cures What Ales You. Get creative if you have to."

She grinned wickedly. "Oh I love it when you give me permission to break the rules."

################################################################################

Dean was terrified at the thought of helping the FBI agent escape from the plantation house. There were so many things that could go wrong and so many ways he could be punished if he got caught. Still, spending a couple years in prison versus a couple of lifetimes was a pretty good deal. There was little chance that he'd be able to fix things with his wife, not after she found out what he'd been doing and the why of it; but he could try. It would be easier to try if he didn't end up dead or in solitary confinement.

By the end of the day, he had made his decision. When he finished up and was ready to head home, he made a detour down to the tunnels. It was eerily silent there, with little staff hanging around to witness what was about to go down. After making sure that nobody would hear or see him, Dean made his way to Agent Hotchner's cell.

"Made your decision?" Aaron asked, not sounding the least bit surprised.

Dean nodded, leaning towards the bars of the cell. "What do I do?"

Hotch was up on his feet and striding to the cell door in an instant. "Every morning you come down here with a tray full of empty glasses and dirty dishes; the remnants of their drinks and breakfast, which I assume you take to them as well."

"That's right. What does that have to do with anything?" he asked nervously.

He sighed. "Just listen. They drinkers?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, they drink constantly, usually Scotch or Gin."

"Okay, and they send you out when they run dry?"

"Usually me, mostly because I volunteer so I don't make waves." There was shame in his voice when he said it.

Hotch nodded. "Okay, in the morning before their breakfast you're going to get rid of the last of their alcohol. When they go to make a drink and say something about it all being gone, you're going to volunteer to go out and get some more."

His heart was pounding but he nodded again. "Okay."

"I've spoken to the guard with the keys who does the field count every day; when I told him who I was and what my plan was, he agreed to pitch in. Getting out of this situation is a pretty good motivator. He's going to leave me in my cell when the others go out but leave the door unlocked and add me to the count so that even if they ask, they'll think I'm there. It won't hold them for too long, but it gives us time."

Dean shook his head, fighting back panic. "This is crazy; it'll never work."

"It will work," Hotch said gruffly. "I know they keep the cars underground off of one of the tunnels; I've seen them. So when you're on your way to the liquor store, you'll come through here and we'll go to the garage. I hide in the back just in case, and we drive out of here and head into the city to bring them down."

"I don't know if I can do this," he said, fear lacing his voice.

Aaron fixed him with an intense stare. "You can, and you will. If you don't, none of us are going to make it out of this."

#################################################################################

The team called it a night somewhere around ten, but they were back at the station bright and early the next morning. They had spread to virtually every corner of the room, with Garcia holding computer court at the large table. Everyone was on edge, working and waiting for someone to hit pay dirt.

"Derek!"

His head shot up at the urgency in Garcia's voice and he was across the room in an instant. "What've you got Baby Girl?"

"Okay, so I've been looking into the owners of Cures What Ales You, Daniel Mason and Jackson Shelbi. Neither of them have any criminal record of note, thought Shelbi has a couple of unpaid parking tickets."

He frowned down at her. "Mama, I hope there's a point to this."

"Be patient. So I did what you asked and started to dig a little deeper. I looked at everything I could find, financials, documents, everything. I found record of divorce papers filed by Daniel Mason in 2003. Funny thing is, Mason didn't go with good old irreconcilable differences like everyone else. Looks like Mrs. Abigail Mason was having an affair with one of Daniel's co-workers. He was working for an ad agency at the time. That's what caused the divorce."

"When did the brewery come into it?"

She checked one of the several documents she had pulled up. "In late 2007 he and his childhood friend Jackson Shelbi opened the brewery. They struggled for a long time, then started doing a booming business, surprise, about a year ago."

By this time the others had caught on to what Garcia had found and were crowded around the computer. "Anything useful on Shelbi?" Emily asked.

Garcia smiled up at her. "Do I ever disappoint? Jackson Shelbi made big news here in the local papers when he was dumped in front of the altar at what was supposed to be his wedding in 2006. She told him in front of the whole congregation that she wasn't in love with him and took off with her ex."

"There's no way all of this is coincidence," Rossi told them. "This has got to be it."

Morgan nodded. "These are the guys. Reid, get Detective Johansen. We're taking them down. Today."

#################################################################################

Morgan had no way of knowing how close they were to being on the same page as Hotch. When the workers were led to the fields that morning, Hotch was left sitting in the corner of his cell. With a nod, the guard had unlocked his door and left. From that point on it was a waiting game.

Hotch being who he was, he had calculated every risk and possibility involved in his plan. They could refuse to send Dean away from the house, someone could see them and go running to the owners out of fear. Plenty of things could go wrong, but he knew that he didn't have another option.

For months he had done as he was told, been the good worker to reduce the instances of whippings and collarings. His mind had been working in overdrive every moment, profiling his captors and those around him, and trying to see the most feasibly way out of the hell hole to save himself and the others there. Not getting out, never seeing Emily or Jack again just hadn't been an option. So he'd worked, and he'd waited for the right opportunity.

Dean was the perfect way out. Hotch was unashamed to be taking advantage of an already beaten man. If it would get him out and help him bring down the animals holding him captive, he didn't care what it took. He only hoped that Dean would have the strength to go through with the plan. The man was running seriously low on courage, but not spending life in prison or ending up six feet under and pushing up daisies tended to be a powerful motivator. Hotch could only hope that it was powerful enough to overcome everything else.

All of these thoughts were swirling around in his head when his pseudo savior appeared at his cell door. "I wasn't sure you'd show up," he said frankly.

"They weren't exactly happy about the empty decanters. There was a debate over who had taken the last drink and it was ten minutes before they even heard me say I'd go get more. They're completely unhinged."

The 'duh' look that Hotch shot him didn't go unnoticed, but it was better to move on. "Let's get moving." It took only a second to get the door open; and the irony in the fact that it was taking a shorter amount of time to get out than it had for him to be taken certainly didn't escape him

Dean closed the door when he was out, hoping that if it was closed nobody would bother to look in there later in the day. He could have sworn that his entire body was shaking as he led Agent Hotchner through the tunnels. Twice they had to duck away as someone walked by, and each time his heart pounded so hard he was afraid it would break out of his chest.

It was a five minute walk to the garage, and when they reached the room and shut the door behind them they both let go of twin sighs of relief they hadn't realized they were holding. "I can't believe this is actually going to work," Dean breathed.

"Believe it," Hotch told him. "I'm good at what I do, and I'm good at planning. Why do you think I waited so long to try anything? Now unlock the car and let's get out of here."

They would be taking his own slightly beat up hatchback, a car he'd had for years and had equipped for this particular trip with a pile of bags and blankets to cover Agent Hotchner so he wouldn't be seen. When they were both situated, he started the car and began the longest drive of his life.

The drive wound out of the tunnels and out behind the plantation house, winding back around the front of the building and out a long ways out of the gates. It couldn't have taken more than two minutes to get onto the main road, but to Dean it felt like the longest drive of his life. For a moment he considered turning around, putting Hotchner back in his cell and pretending none of it had ever happened. But he quickly realized there was no turning back. Hotchner would put up a fight and he'd never be able to explain why he had one of the workers out of the fields or cells without incriminating himself.

So he kept driving, wondering how long it would be until he was truly in the clear. His mind was reeling and for a moment he completely forgot about his passenger. Glancing around, he realized they were a good five miles down the road from the plantation. "Agent Hotchner, you should be okay to come out now."

There was a rustling behind him and a few moments and some strange maneuvering later, Dean had a rumpled but thrilled FBI Agent riding shotgun. "Do you have a cell phone?" Hotch asked.

"In the center console."

Hotch was surprised to realize that his hand was shaking when he reached for it. Sending up a silent prayer, he forced his fingers to still long enough to dial, then he held the phone to his ear and waited.

#################################################################################

Back at the station, they had just about worked out their procedure. It was a delicate situation, not knowing how many prisoners they were dealing with; so their plans had taken longer than they had hoped for. But they were ironing out the details, and with any luck their warrant would come through in the next half an hour or so. In the meantime, Derek went over the final details with the team.

"Reid, you and Rossi are here, and here," he told them, pointing to the map. "JJ's here, I'm here, and Johansen is taking care of his men. We want this clean, no mistakes that could potentially get us in trouble and get them off the hook."

"We've all got it, Morgan," Rossi commented.

He shook his head. "I know, but this one means more to us than others, so we're going to be careful about everything; and we aren't going to screw up." Glancing up from the map, he met Emily's eyes; and though he said two names, the next words out of his mouth were clearly just for her. "Prentiss and Garcia, in one of the cars with an officer. Once we clear the unsubs from the building, gain access to everything and assess the situation, then you come in. Not before, Em."

Emily nodded. "I've got it Derek. Even if you would let me I wouldn't go barreling into the lion's den this pregnant. I'll wait until I have the okay."

"Then we're all on the same page. All we can do now is wait for the warrant."

It was a game of nerves; starting at every sound and glancing at the door. They all about jumped out of their skin when the phone Emily had left sitting on the table vibrated. "God, sorry," she told them, snatching it from the table and pressing it to her ear. "Agent Prentiss."

"Em?"

Her eyes filled with tears when she heard the voice on the other line. For a moment she couldn't seem to form a single word, then she whispered back. "Aaron?"


	9. Like Coming Home

"Aaron?"

The single whispered word had the whole room on high alert. They all rushed to surround Emily, motioning for her to put the call on speaker; but she couldn't, not just yet. She left the phone pressed to her ear and waited with her heart pounding to hear something else.

"Em, God I missed your voice. I know you're in Memphis and I…. well that doesn't matter now. Where are you?"

"We're at the police station." She rattled of the address, tears streaming down her cheeks as she spoke. "You're okay? You're safe?"

"I'm okay. Emily, if there was anything I could have done to keep this from happening, I would have. You have to believe that."

She nodded quickly. "I know. I knew even before we started working the case. I knew…." Her breath hitched and she barely felt the hand that pressed against her back and guided her into a chair. Then Dave was on his knees next to her trying to get her to breathe.

Derek fumbled for the phone Emily had relinquished and pressed the speaker button. "Hotch?"

"Derek? Is Emily okay?"

"She's in a bit of shock. Dave's got her, though. Hotch man what happened?"

There was a pause."I'll explain everything when I get to the station. For now I'll tell you that I've got transportation, and the man behind the wheel is going to put the final nail in the coffin for this case."

"How far out?" JJ asked.

"JJ? I think…" There was an unfamiliar voice in the background. "Half an hour, or thereabouts. I'm losing service but look for this car" He described it for them. "Em?"

Her head shot up. "I'm here."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

The call disconnected and JJ was up and brushing tears from her eyes as she booked for the door. "I'll tell Johansen what's going on and make sure EMS is on site by the time that car pulls up."

Reid sank into a chair, shaking his head. "We should have known he would find a way out."

Blown away, Derek did the same. "I can't even believe… Baby Girl come here." Garcia willingly obliged and with an almost gleeful laugh he pulled her down to kiss her thoroughly. "He did it. He really did it."

Penelope brushed at her own tears as she gently broke away to kneel by Dave. "Emily, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm better than fine," she said with a beaming smile. "I think my heart's going about ninety miles a minute, and the baby's…." She trailed off and suddenly went as white as a sheet. "The baby. How on earth do I tell him about the baby? I can't just walk out like this!"

Dave could see the panic attack coming on as well as anyone, and he reached out for her hand. "First off, panicking about this isn't good for you or the baby. Second, I think walking out is pretty much your only option, and you know how happy he'll be."

She nodded slowly. "You're right, and I know it. God I hate being hormonal and irrational. I was never this high strung before I got pregnant."

"Well, getting pregnant and having your fiancé kidnapped will do that to you," Garcia quipped. She looked up and met Emily's eyes. "I'm glad I was wrong to worry."

"So am I."

#################################################################################

Half an hour never took so long to pass as it did that day. Derek paced with the intensity of an expectant father while Garcia made contact with everyone she could back at home to let them know what had happened. Reid was the calmest of them all, sitting on the couch with a book in his lap while JJ clutched his hand. Rossi tried and failed to make small talk with the officers milling around and finally gave up and took up a post guarding the front doors of the station.

As for Emily, she sat with a hand on her belly and tried to hold back tears as she thought of what she would say when she saw him. Everything she came up with seemed trite or clichéd, so she finally gave up and simply sat there and let her mind drift. It gave her mind a blissful reprieve from wondering when she would finally see him again, and her breathing finally evened back out. She had drifted on to baby names when Dave came barreling into the room.

"The car Hotch described just pulled into the lot."

They were all up on their feet and out of the room in an instant, practically racing for the door. Then something nagged at the back of Reid's mind and he spun back around, running back to skid to a halt in the conference room doorway.

Emily looked up from the low chair she was trying to maneuver her hugely pregnant body out of with one eyebrow raised. "I was waiting for that."

#################################################################################

Hotch was sure that a police station had never looked so comforting in his entire life. As Dean pulled into the parking lot, he felt his heart soar. Emily was inside, his team was inside; he had really made it out.

The car pulled to a stop and uniformed officers seemed to swarm the car. Once they had established who was who, Dean was taken by the arm and led into the building, leaving Hotch climbing out of the car by himself. JJ was the first to spot him, and in a completely uncharacteristic move she burst out of the door and came running towards him. He braced himself and caught her in a hug as she made contact. "It's good to see you JJ."

She pulled back, gasping. "I didn't even think to see if you were injured, Hotch. I'm so sorry!"

He shook his head. "A little bit, but it doesn't matter. Come on."

They started towards the door and it suddenly seemed to hit his body; like his brain finally started screaming at him. 'Hey moron, you were held captive and beaten for months!' As he faltered a bit, JJ wrapped an arm around his waist for support and they kept on going.

Derek met them at the door with a mile-wide grin. "You look like shit Hotch."

"I haven't seen a mirror in a while, but I'll take your word for it. It's good to see you Morgan."

"You have no idea."

They tried not to mob him when he came inside, difficult as that was. The entry to the police station was a cacophony of hellos, thank gods, and crying. Once he managed to extract himself from Garcia, Hotch looked around. "Where are Emily and Reid?"

Derek's eyes widened. "Damn."

"A little late for that isn't it?" Emily asked.

It was a bit like the parting of the Red Sea. Everyone moved out of the way, Reid took a step back, and suddenly the path between Emily and Aaron was clear. Their eyes met first, finding each other effortlessly; then he took in every inch of her, and his stuttered in his chest when he saw her belly. Slowly, he made his way back to her face, seeing the tears shining there.

"Aaron?" she questioned quietly. "Are you going to say or do something? I'd really like to run over there but I'm kind of huge."

He let out a stunned laugh, and in what seemed like just a second he was standing in front of her. Without a word, he caught her in his arms and kissed her fervently as they clung to each other for dear life. "God I missed you," he said, tears forming in his own eyes when he pulled away. "So much."

"I missed you too. I thought at first that you were dead, and when we caught this case… I didn't want to think of the possibilities, but I had to know. I'm so glad I had to know."

For a moment they just stood there taking each other in, until Hotch's hand drifted down to gently press against her belly. "How long?"

"Closing in on nine months now, and thrilled that he's going to know his father."

His eyes met hers with wonder. "His?" His grin grew about a million times when she nodded. "A boy. You'll be swimming in testosterone."

A laugh bubbled out of her at that. "We'll start trying to level the playing field as soon as we can." She paused and tears began to glisten in her eyes again. "You're here. I wasn't sure if you ever would be again."

He nodded, unsurprised to feel his own tears pricking at his eyes again. Pulling her as tight against him as he could, he reached up to cradle her face in his hands. "I'm here, and I'm never going anywhere again."

Note From The Author—It's short, and I honestly don't know if I'm that thrilled with how it turned out. For two days I've been fighting with every word of this; nothing beyond the first sentence came easily. That would be why it's going up, love it or hate it. I guess all I can do is hope that if it does in fact suck, you'll forgive me since I've finally brought them back together.


	10. The Takedown

Note From the Author—I apologize for the delay on this. My only excuse is that it for some reason took me two weeks to read a book that would normally take me a day and I promised myself I would finish it before I did anything. So this chapter is going up late, but at least it's up. Who's ready for the bad guys to get busted?!!!!

Hotch didn't get much further before he was surrounded by EMS. Though everyone expressed their wishes that he just go to the hospital, he calmly shook his head and said he would be just fine. So while medical personnel swarmed him, he told the team what had happened in the previous months.

It was pretty much what they had thought it would be. He took them through his abduction, the drive to Memphis cloaked in a drugged haze, and his arrival at the compound. He estimated the number of prisoners to be somewhere in the area of seventy-five men, and he told them about the daily routines of the men who held them and the profile he had worked up in his head.

"Looks like we came to the same conclusions," Morgan said with a grim smile. "And with your testimony and the guy who helped you out, there's no way they're going to get off."

Hotch shook his head. "Not a chance. But they'll notice I'm gone soon, and you want to get there before they do, or at least right behind. Who knows what they may do to the others when they find out."

There was something in his voice, and Reid regarded him carefully. "You don't want to go with us to bring them down?"

"No," was his succinct answer.

Derek thought he could understand where he was coming from, so with a nod he turned to the team. "JJ, we have the warrant?"

"Signed and sealed," she answered.

"Then let's take the bastards down."

#################################################################################

Though Emily wasn't going to complain about Hotch's desire to stay away from the lion's den, she couldn't help the curiosity she felt. Her mind was working in overdrive as she went to find a bottle of water and something vaguely resembling food, and she knew she wouldn't be able to keep herself from over-analyzing.

Much to Hotch's chagrin, JJ had called in a doctor to supplement the EMTs before they had piled into SVUs twenty minutes before; and when Emily returned he was frowning as the man wrapped his ribs and attended to the scrapes and cuts he refused to have taken care of anywhere else.

"You're being stubborn," Emily told him with an affectionate smile.

Just the sight of her seemed to make the frown disappear, and he smiled up at her. "Yes I am, but trust me, this could be much worse."

"I saw photographs of the other victims," the doctor told him, not noticing the way his patient winced at the word victim. "You seemed to have gotten off easy."

"You learn to behave rather quickly," he commented.

Still, even for behaving Emily could tell her fiancé was banged up pretty sufficiently. There were a couple of scars, most likely from his early days in captivity, and his body was peppered with bruises and cuts. "I really wish you would go to the hospital."

Aaron shook his head. "Really Em, I'm fine. You're the one who should be resting."

On this matter, the doctor agreed. "He's right; you take a seat young lady and get off your feet for a moment."

She managed not to sigh, if only barely, as she sat next to Hotch. "I've got a couple more weeks, its fine."

"Babies come early all the time and you've been under an extraordinary amount of stress, so you just try to relax now." With a kind smile, he stood and handed Aaron his shirt. "You're looking much better than you could, Mr. Hotchner. I don't anticipate any problems with healing but it would be best if you listened to your fiancée and went to the hospital just to be sure."

"Can he eat?" Emily asked.

The older man nodded. "You don't seem to be dehydrated or malnourished."

"You have to keep your work at least healthy enough to work," Hotch observed.

"Yes, well I'd say that you should be fine, but start slow. Water, clear liquids and light foods to start. Work your way back up, alright?"

He nodded, holding his hand out to shake. "I will, and thank you."

The doctor smiled. "Not a problem; you both take it easy, okay?"

Emily and Aaron nodded in tandem, waiting until the adorable man was out of ear shot to share a grin. As he pulled the shirt back over his head she reached for the bottle of water and crackers she had grabbed. "Come on; let's go take advantage of the couch."

It took a moment for the two of them to settle in, being close to nine months pregnant and having been beaten consistently didn't make it easy to get comfortable; but they eventually managed it. As they sat and Hotch sipped carefully at his water Emily found herself sinking into his side, simply relishing in the feeling of him next to her.

"I'm sorry for everything you went through," he finally said quietly.

She shook her head against his shoulder. "Aaron, you were kidnapped and used a slave labor; and after months of it you got out, and you came back to us. You don't have anything to be sorry about."

His hand drifted over to her belly, rubbing circles there as the baby kicked lazily at his father's palm. "I'm sorry that you went through this alone, that I didn't get to be here for all of the milestones," he told her, his voice full of regret.

"I wished every day that you were here, but you don't have to worry about me going through it alone. The boys were absolutely impossible to deal with; they hardly let me out of their sight."

Hotch chuckled. "That doesn't surprise me, and even if they drove you crazy I'm glad to know they were here for you when I couldn't." His eyes brightened as he leaned in towards her belly. "A boy, huh? Jack sounded thrilled that he would be getting a baby brother when I talked to him on the phone; and he's going to watch out for you."

Emily just gazed down at him as he whispered to their son. This was what she had missed, what she had wanted so badly; and now that he was there with his hands gentle on her belly and his voice in her ears, she found it hard to choke back tears. "You're going to be just as great with BB as you are with Jack," she told him.

"BB?" he questioned, sitting up to look at her.

She laughed. "BB, it stands for Bureau Baby. Every time I tried to think up names it just felt wrong, doing it without you. We couldn't just keep saying him or it so Dave, Rossi and Morgan all came up with names. Trust me, BB was a compromise."

"Do I want to know?" he asked her.

"Well, Reid suggested Darwin, which he got around to telling us after a long speech on the similarities between the development of a child and the process of evolution. Dave suggested Baby Bubba Leroy, though he was clearly joking, and Morgan's glowing contribution was Theotis. So as you can see, BB was the least of the evils; but now we can pick a real name for him."

He tamped down a laugh at the suggestions and leaned in to kiss her. "Well let's get working then."

##################################################################################

As Hotch and Emily debated over the merits of Jamison versus Eric, the rest of the team prepared for an ambush. With Garcia's help they had bypassed the Cures What Ales You security system, and were waiting for Morgan's call to go in.

Inside the compound, a furious yell echoed through the cellars as the second discovered the very empty cell of Agent Aaron Hotchner. Slamming the door shut, he stalked up to the main building, cursing the whole way. When he made it to the study he threw the door open and regarded the first with an almost feral look. "How, pray tell, did the FBI agent get out of his cell?"

The first shook his head. "He didn't, he couldn't have."

"Well, he did," the second growled, and now we're fucked upside down and backwards."

"Are you sure he isn't in the cell?"

The second was on him in an instant, pressing him up against the wall by the throat. "I am not incompetent, he isn't in the cell."

As suddenly as it had begun, the pressure on the first's larynx ceased, and he hunched over the desk, his eyes slamming shut. "What do we do?"

"What the hell do you think?" The second whirled around to look at the man. "We get the hell in a car and get out of here before the FBI is on our ass."

It took the second about five seconds to register that the object pressed against the back of his head was the barrel of a gun. He contemplated attempting to fight the man off, until the other agents went around him to take his partner; he was outnumbered by far, and seriously outgunned. Going stock still, he felt anger and fear rise in him as he heard the deep male voice behind him. "Too late."

#################################################################################

Note From The Author—Okay, so it's short, but how could I not leave it there? I just couldn't bring myself to add anything after that. Also, two of the names were actually used for my sister and I when we were in utero. Yeah, it's a miracle I'm not scarred : )


	11. Finally

Note From The Author—Okay, I completely epically fail at updating, and I know it. I honestly completely forgot about this story, and for that I'm very sorry. I can only hope that what comes next makes up for my complete neglect of this piece.

At first Hotch wasn't sure if he wanted to attempt to face his former captors. After everything that had happened there was a part of him that just wanted to walk away and never see their faces until the inevitable trial. In the end that impulse lasted for a grand total of about five minutes. Aaron realized that if he didn't face the pair of them he would never be able to look at himself the same way. He wouldn't participate in the interrogation or the remainder of the investigation; he wasn't allowed by BAU policies. What he would do was walk into that interrogation room, his turf and his terms, and tell them exactly what they didn't want to hear.

An officer was sent out to get him a new suit; he wouldn't face them as 'the FBI Agent' they had used as slave labor, but as SSA Aaron Hotchner. He made sure that he wasn't anywhere he could be seen when Morgan and Reid brought Daniel Mason and Jackson Shelbi in. For one thing, he hadn't left Emily's side since his return, and he didn't want her there. For two, he didn't want to ruin the effect.

What seemed like weeks after his arrival at the precinct, but in reality was only a few hours, Hotch stood outside the interrogation room that housed the men who had taken him from everything he had ever loved.

Emily smoothed her hands nervously over his tie. "Hotch; you don't have to do this."

"I do, Em. They have to see that they didn't break me." He smiled. "Plus I want to put the fear of God in them."

She wanted to say more, but Derek chose that moment to walk up. A frown creased his face as he looked at his friend. "Hotch, are you sure you want to do this?"

He nodded. "Positive. As soon as I leave you can split them up, start working them over in interrogation, but I'm saying what I have to say Derek."

"Okay. Then let's go."

################################################################################

Daniel Mason had never been so terrified in his entire life; not when they had started this, not when he had realized the FBI Agent was missing, and not when he'd been led away from their operation at gun point. He knew this was it, his life was over, and he was never going to get away from this. Those people had deserved it, he knew, but nobody understood; how could they? All he had wanted was to save those people from what would happen to them eventually, from what had happened to him; why shouldn't they have made a profit in the process? But no, all they would see is what they had done, the lives lost that he as a businessman saw as collateral damage. So that was why he was so scared; his life was about to come to a screeching halt, all because nobody understood the favors he'd done. The FBI Agent they had taken would make sure of it.

################################################################################

Emily and Derek walked to one door as Hotch walked to the other. The latter seemed to be pausing to collect his thoughts, so the other two agents walked into the observation room. At first glance Shelbi and Mason were completely innocuous. Two mid aged men, one looking like he was going to wet himself and the other looking stubborn as all get out. Then Emily remembered what they had done to the man she loved, what they had put so many people through, and suddenly they seemed far from harmless. A shiver ran through her as she watched them.

################################################################################

Jackson Shelbi was pissed. He couldn't believe that bastard FBI Agent had gotten loose, and he knew that if he ever saw Dean again he would kill the bastard. They had been so careful, so meticulous, and too meticulous to be caught. And yet they had been, and he was sure that this whole issue was somehow Daniel's fault; it usually was. He threw his pathetically shaking partner a look of disgust. He was sure that when they were separated Daniel would sing like a canary, and the only thing he could do about it was make sure that if he went down, he took as many people as he could down with them.

He wasn't scared in the slightest. Then Agent Hotchner walked in.

################################################################################

Emily and Derek watched as Aaron entered the interrogation room. Daniel Mason sank into his chair, shaking like a leaf, while Jackson Shelbi looked truly afraid for the first time since they had brought him in.

Hotch began to speak, but Emily was surprised not to hear anything. She looked over at Derek and he returned her gaze solemnly. "Hotch didn't want us to hear, and I don't want it on the record."

Blowing out an exasperated breath, Emily didn't know whether to be thrilled at her fiance's protectiveness or aggravated at the addition of another fussy male to the 'let's treat Emily like glass crew.' Trying not to dwell on it, she turned back to the observation window. She may not be able to hear what Aaron was saying, but she could very clearly see the effect it was having on the two men sitting in front of him. Their emotions were playing out across their faces, and they were looking more and more terrified by the second. When Hotch stood, Daniel Mason looked as if he might cry, and Jackson Shelbi had the look of a man about to go to the gallows. Knowing that it was done, Emily exited the observation room to find Aaron just closing the door.

"What did you say?" she questioned, looking up at him curiously.

He only shook his head. "It isn't important now. What is important is that we're both here, the baby's on the way any time, and all of this is over."

Likely he was worried over what she would think if he told her what had been said inside that room; but it wouldn't have mattered to Emily. Nothing he could have said or done in there would have changed the way she felt about him at that moment, but she wouldn't push it. All that mattered was that she had him back. Her son would know his father and she was going to marry this remarkable man in front of her. With a soft smile, she leaned up to kiss him. "Let's get out of here."

################################################################################

The interrogation didn't take long. Mason and Shelbi didn't have a leg to stand on between Hotch and Dean; they had both made full confessions within minutes of Dave and Morgan walking into their interrogation rooms. Emily and Hotch had long since headed to the hotel, with Garcia having followed them about an hour later.

JJ felt like she'd been working on the press release for all eternity. For obvious reasons, this one was different for her. She had to be delicate with anything involving the BAU, but the direct involvement of one of their agents in an incident such as this made the web she usually had to weave tangle and snag at every turn. She had just put the finishing touches on and gone back to re-read it for the umpteenth time when a hand on her shoulder made her start.

"JJ, go back to the hotel," Dave told her with a kind smile.

Stretching, she looked down at her watch. "That can't possibly be the time."

"It can, and it is. Everyone else is gone, and we could all use some rest." He held out his hand, and when she took it he pulled her up and tucked her arm into his, giving her no choice.

"Dave, I have a couple more things," she told him, pulling at his arm back towards the table."

Rossi shook his head and regarded her as he might an adorably petulant child. "JJ, we're the last ones here, including all of the day staff and officers. It's time to go."

She sighed but finally acquiesced. "Fine, we'll go."

It was a clear night out when they walked to the remaining SUV. The light post it was parked under shed a dingy light on it, making the vehicle look about as welcome as a wolf's den, but JJ was beginning to feel the fatigue of the past months and she would ride on a damn tilt a whirl if it would get her to a bed.

As it turned out, peace wasn't to be found. Her phone rang just as she closed her door, and when she looked down at the caller ID she sighed heavily and picked it up. "Hello, Will."

Her tone gained Dave's interest. A weary sigh and a terse voice weren't what you expected to hear when a woman was talking to her husband. But then he thought back, and he found he couldn't remember the last time he'd heard JJ speak to Will, let alone the last time she had smiled while doing so. Keeping his eyes on the road and his posture neutral, Rossi tuned in to listen mid-conversation.

"Are you listening to me, Will? We found Hotch, the man your son calls Uncle Hotchy… Look I get that you're upset with me but really, the man has been missing for….Oh…"

JJ drifted off and Dave found that he had to look over her. The look on her face was caught somewhere between shock and elation, and it wasn't hard to tell that something big had happened.

She swallowed hard. "I thought we were going to wait until I got back… Yes I agree… Probably the best choice… Will…." Her voice lowered to a whisper and despite herself, tears sprang to her eyes. "It was never supposed to go this way… Okay.... Yeah… Kiss Henry for him and tell him I love him… Okay…Bye."

She kept quiet as she hung up the phone, and she appreciated that Dave didn't either. JJ knew there must have been questions and worries whirling through his head, but to his credit he didn't let any of them show; he just offered a hand. She took it willingly, twining their fingers and taking the silent support for what it was. Even when tears silently slipped down her face, they rode the rest of the way in silence.

################################################################################

When Reid heard the knock on his door he knew it was JJ. Everyone but she and Rossi had long since given into the temptation of sleep, and the older man rarely visited him in the hotels. Taking a fortifying breath, he set his book down on the night stand and went to answer.

As the door swung open, he could tell immediately that she had been crying. What was strange was that she didn't look sad. Though her eyes were red and her skin was pale, she looked almost…well excited. He didn't dare dreamed that what he hoped for had happened, so he just stared into her eyes. "JJ….?"

The blonde took a deep breath. "Will just called me in the car. I signed the papers before I left; I was just waiting for him. We were going to wait to file until I got back from this case, but it seems he went and got them from the department and pulled some strings with a friend to have them pushed through. It's not completely official yet, but he wanted it done now. Apparently he's met someone."

His eyes filled with sadness. "JJ, I'm sorry."

"Don't you get it, Reid?" she asked with a smile. "I don't care that Will's found someone else. How could I when I did the same?"

Their eyes caught and held, and Reid felt his heart stutter in his chest. This was happening; it was really happening. Hadn't he waited for this since the day he had met Jennifer Jareau? Hadn't he been miserable over her since the day she had first flirted with William LaMontagne Jr? So why couldn't he do anything but stand there and stare at her?

"Reid?" JJ questioned nervously. "Are you going to say anything?"

He thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. No, he wasn't going to say anything; for once in his life he was going to act.

JJ barely had time to react before she was in his arms. In an instant the door was closed behind them, her back pressed to the cool wood. She fell easily into the kiss, sinking into him as the world fell away. Suddenly there weren't any serial killers, no colleagues or expectations; it was just the two of them alone in that moment. Finally


	12. Hope

Author's Note: This chapter is short, but I think you'll forgive me when I tell you the reason. It's our last chapter; and you get to meet the littlest Hotchner!

Montgomery Regional Hospital

Emily had never been so happy to be in a Bureau SUV in her entire life. For once they weren't driving towards a murder scene or a shootout. She wasn't driving along wondering where Hotch was, praying he was still alive; those days of waiting and wondering were thankfully over. Rather, she was settled in the backseat of the car, Hotch's head on her shoulder and his hand on her belly. She hadn't felt so content in a long time, and she noted that the rest of the team seemed to feel the same way. None of them had missed the way JJ's hand had caught Reid's as they stepped onto the plane, and Dave in particular had been grinning from ear to ear.

Not too long before, they had put half of the team on the jet, and the others had piled into the SUV. Hotch and Emily had insisted that they could drive by themselves and that Morgan and Garcia would be much more comfortable on the plane, but they had stood firm. They knew that Em couldn't drive and that Hotch was still exhausted, and the last thing they wanted was for anything to go wrong and for the pair of them to not have anyone there as backup. It was just how the team worked.

Behind the wheel, Derek smiled as he thought about the case. They had gotten their unsub, gotten Hotch back, and it seemed that Reid and JJ had finally gotten their ducks in a row. Everything seemed perfect in his mind until he glanced in the rear view mirror and saw wincing look of pain on Emily's face.

"Em, what's wrong?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head. "It's nothing, I'm fine. Don't wake Aaron and Garcia."

Morgan sighed. "Emily, who's your best friend?"

"You are," she forced out, clearly in pain.

"And do I know you well enough to know when you're lying to me?" he questioned.

Dark eyes squeezed shut as she expelled a pained breath. "Okay fine, I'm not alright. Happy now?"

He chuckled. "Not better necessarily, but I'd say we've got bigger problems on our hands; like, I don't know, the fact that you're in labor."

Emily's back bowed with the pain of what she could no longer deny were contractions coming fast. "I managed to catch that, thanks. Aaron." She nudged Hotch with her shoulder. "Aaron wake up."

He did so in his own time, slowly sitting up and combing a hand through his hair, making it stick up at all angles. "What's wrong?" Then he looked over at his fiancée and immediately knew. With a bemused laugh he shrugged. "Well I guess we're just incapable of doing anything normally."

She let out a staccato laugh. "Yeah, I guess not. I didn't want it to happen this way," she said softly.

"Hey." Hotch cradled her face in his hands, leaning in for a soft kiss and leaning his forehead against hers. "It doesn't matter how. All that matters is we're here, and our son is coming. His just as impatient as his parents can both be."

Garcia had woken up by then, and she looked back into the backseat. "Looks like we're having a baby." Turning back around, her nimble fingers went to work on her phone. Closest hospital is Montgomery Regional in Blacksburg."

"How far?" Derek asked as his eyes locked on the road.

"Twenty minutes."

Gritting her teeth, Emily shook her head. "Make it fifteen; I am not having this baby in a car Derek."

"And I'm not going to let you have him here." With a looked of determined defiance he hit the siren and his foot went to the gas. "Hang on."

#################################################################################

JJ had been on the ground for a grand total of an hour when her phone went off; she hadn't even left the office yet. With a frustrated sound disturbingly akin to a growl she picked up her cell. "Jareau." Her eyes grew wider and wider as she listened, and she hadn't even hung up when she was on her feet and dashing into the bullpen.

"JJ, is everything okay?" Reid asked, his face showing nothing but concern.

She disconnected the call with a laugh. "We've got to go to Blacksburg."

"Why?" Dave questioned, his head poking out of his office door.

"Emily went into labor in the SUV; they didn't get a chance to call us until now." She leaned up to give a stunned Reid a smacking kiss. "She had the baby!"

Both men were still staring after her as she headed for the door. Rooted to the spot, neither of them moved until the petite blonde turned back to face them with her hands on her hips. It wasn't until she put it essential caveman terms that they got it "Emily, baby, car now!"

And they were off.

#####################################################################################

It took them close to four hours to get the whole team back together; but it was all worth it. When they reunited it was in a hospital room, much like the one they had been in when Henry had been born. JJ thought that Emily had never looked as beautiful as she did with her hair scooped up from her glowing face as she smiled sparklingly down at her son. The baby had a head of full dark hair and hands like his father. In short he was positively gorgeous, and it was clear that both of his parents were madly in love with him.

It was a familiar scene for JJ, but this time she was grateful that it was Spencer by her side. Part of her would always love Will; he had given her the most precious thing in her life when she had Henry; but she knew now that it had only been that connection that had kept them going for so long. Her son was safe at home waiting for her, and the rest of her family was all around her.

Reid smiled happily down at JJ as she took his hand, then he turned back to Emily and Hotch. "You haven't said yet what you named the little guy."

The new parents shared a smile. "Do you want to tell them or should I?" Hotch questioned, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"You do the honors," she said with a grin.

Hotch looked up from his family, a rare grin to match Emily's lighting up his face. "Brannon Blake Hotchner."

It took a minute for it to sink in, but when it did the room erupted into laughter. Grinning, Morgan leaned down to brush a finger across the baby's cheek. Sleepy eyes opened and the tough guy's gooey center started to show. "Guess I still get to call you BB don't I little man?"

Seeing that Derek was practically itching to hold little Brannon, Emily willingly passed him up, leaning contentedly against Hotch's side. "He's a lucky guy, to have so many people who care; just like Henry."

JJ smiled. "They're going to get along great, I hope."

"They will," Dave said with a smile. "They're both Bureau kids; they'll stick together."

Meanwhile Garcia hadn't taken her eyes off of Derek and Brannon. "I know that look Derek Morgan," she said in a warning tone. "You just keep in mind that you wouldn't be the one giving birth."

Grinning mischievously he turned the baby to face her. "But Mama, just look at him. Think how cute…"

She shook her head. "Oh no, you're not going to talk me into it that way Sugar, not going to happen." But Derek passed her the baby and they could all see that she was warming to the idea. "Oh he's so sweet."

As everyone laughed Garcia handed the baby off to Reid and playfully swatted away Derek's attempts at affection as the young doctor stared down at the tiny little person in his arms. "This never gets any less terrifying does it?" he questioned.

JJ shook her head. "Nope, more so actually; but you're great with them Spence." Their eyes met for a moment and she felt something in her stir. Content that she could finally feel it without the need to lock her feelings away rushing at her, she took the baby and rocked him for a moment before handing him to Dave and leaning in to wrap an arm around Spencer's waist. "Really great."

Evidently it was just a day for revelations and new beginnings. None of them said anything about the two youngest members of the team, knowing they would spill when they were ready. As the baby finally circled back around to Hotch, conversation picked back up. They were all still laughing together when Brannon fell asleep his father's arms.

They were reluctant to clear out, but they knew it was necessary. Reid, Dave and JJ needed to head back to Quantico, and Morgan and Garcia's hotel room was calling their name. As they headed out they all congratulated Emily and Hotch one more time, exchanging hugs and kisses. The baby slept through it all, without realizing that to the BAU team, he was so much more than just a little boy; he was the renewal of hope.


End file.
